A Diamond and a Tether

by PatchworkPoltergeist

First published

Of all the birthday presents Lucy expected, a pink talking pony was not one of them.

Heiress Lucy Burdock knows life has a way of surprising you.

For example, she wasn't expecting a little pink pony for her birthday. She certainly didn't expect it to start talking, either. It was cute at first, but it kinda feels more like taking care of a little kid than a pony. Lucy's never really been great with kids... but she can make it work!

Can't she?

2nd Place in EQD's More Most Dangerous Game contest

A Girl's Best Friend

View Online

April, 2004

Lucille Burdock stares into the box. “Oh.” Her smile deflates.

“Uh.” Her boyfriend rubs the back of his neck, trying to avoid the cut of her stare. “Something wrong, babe?”

Lucy purses her lips. She holds the pair of diamond earrings—12 carat with crystal clarity and flawless princess cut—in her manicured hands as if they’re garden snails. Or worse, cubic zirconia. “The Clark Collection was two seasons ago, Brian.”

“Oh.” Brian blinks. “So…you already have a pair?”

Everybody has a pair, Brian. And nobody’s wearing studs this year, it’s all about chandelier earrings this year, everybody knows that. Everybody.” She falls back against the couch, back bouncing against the leather. “And like, what’re Ashlyn and Bethany even gonna say, me showing up tonight with last year’s earrings?

“Could at least pretend to be grateful, you know.”

“…You waited until this morning to get me something, didn’t you?”

Brian plays with his watch and glances away. Technically, it was last night.

“Gawd, that is so like you!” The frown crinkles into a scowl. “I told you I wanted something nice, Brian. Something unique. Special.”

“Okay, first: I know what unique means. And second…” Brian glances from the corner of his eye and smirks. “Who said I just got you earrings?” He hops over the back of the couch and strides to the kitchen.

Lucy, curious but not ready to let Brian know that, peeps over her shoulder. Hopefully it’s not another dress. He can never remember her size and keeps getting her stuff with ugly grandma patterns.

The purple box he brings back is the size of a small bookcase. Brian carries it carefully, as if whatever’s inside is breakable. As he places it in her lap, the box jostles. She can hear something scraping the sides and the lid’s striped with dark mesh.

So, probably not a new dress.

Lifting an eyebrow, she looks to Brian, who lifts the brim of his ball cap to her.

“Happy 20th, Luce.”

Lucy puts her ear to the lid. Something sniffs at her. Did he get her a puppy? One of those cute designer dogs that don’t shed on furniture?

Carefully, she unties the ribbons and lifts the lid. She blinks, looks up at Brian’s smug face, then back to the box. She blinks again, just to make sure she’s not seeing things.

Inside, curled in a nest of hay and shredded newspaper, is a tiny pink horse. It can’t be any bigger than a large cat. It could fit in one of her purses easily. Its mane is Lucy’s favorite shade of lavender, and the white stripes running through it match the silk ribbon on the pony’s neck. The coat is plush and smooth; it’s like petting a throw pillow.

Lucy’s face splits into a grin. “Ohhh, my gooooosh.”

The little animal blinks, squinting in the living room lights with blue eyes half the size of her head. It kind of reminds Lucy of those anime characters Ashlyn’s brother likes so much. If the little horse wasn’t busy trying to crawl out of the box, she could swear it was just a well-made toy.

“Oh, hel-lo there, sweetie princess! Who’s a sweet princess?”

The pony twitches its ears at Lucy’s voice. A little smile spreads across its face as it makes squeaky little whinnies. It kind of sounds like it’s giggling.

“Yes, that’s right! You’re a sweetie baby princess!” Lucy scoops the little pony in her arms, taking every opportunity to kiss those darling little ears and sweet forehead and cute little velvety nose. She smells like powder and rain, none of that horsey smell.

The pony wiggles in her arms and makes the giggly sound again.

“Yeah, you are! You’re just the most perfect little pony ever, huh?” Lucy takes a tiny leg in her hand and rubs a pearly hoof with her thumb.

Brian crosses his arms and grins smugly. He hasn’t seen her this excited since senior prom. “Well? Unique enough for you?”

“Oh, Bri, she’s perfect!” Lucy kisses the ears again and the little pony nuzzles her neck. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. Is she still a baby?” She frowns uncertainly. “I don’t really have room for a stable….will she get a lot bigger?”

“Nah.” Brian leans over the pony to kiss his girlfriend. “One of those miniature horses, like they use for blind people, but smaller. And pink.”

“Why is she pink?”

“’Cause she is? It’s kinda like those teacup poodles, but a teacup pony instead. They got a pony to be tiny, they can get ‘em all sorts of colors, I guess. The little ones are called fillies.” He strokes his goatee as he thinks a moment. “No, wait, just the girls are fillies. Little horses are foals.”

The filly is set in Lucy’s lap, where she immediately crawls out to explore the couch. The little legs have trouble balancing on the soft leather. She falls a couple of times before she runs for the heaps of wrapping paper at the other end.

Lucy balls up the shiny, gold paper her earrings were wrapped in and tosses it. The foal pounces, delighted at the crinkly noise it makes.

“Where’d you even find something like this? She must have cost a fortune.”

“Hey, only the best for my baby.” Brian adjusts his jacket lapel and grins. “I have my ways.”

Lucy leans over, her leaf-brown hair spilling over the foal’s shoulders. “Whatcha doin’, little pony?”

The filly’s too busy investigating her wavy reflection in the wrapping paper to acknowledge her.

“We’re a pretty little filly, aren’t we?” The birthday girl waves the diamond studs. The pony watches the light and different colors skim across the multifaceted surface. “I think she likes shiny things.”

“I think it just likes finally being out of that box,” laughs Brian. “You know what you’re gonna name it?”

Locks of purple mane twirl through Lucy’s fingers. Soft and silky, though it could use a comb. The way she looked at her, it was like she understood every word she said.

“Perfect little princess,” Lucy coos. “I kind of like Tiara.”

Brian snickers.

“What?”

“Nothin’. Just a weird name is all. But hey, it’s your pony.”

“She,” Lucy says. “A she, not it. And you got any better ideas, smart guy?”

Brian shakes his head at how this little horse is getting fawned over already. Lucy’s gonna end up one of those people that calls herself a pet parent and holds little birthday parties. “I dunno... Diamond, maybe?”

When his girlfriend just stares at him, he clarifies, “Because diamonds are a girl’s best friend. Get it?”

“I dunno. I still like Tiara more.” Lucy scoops the pony in her arms and plants a little kiss on her nose.

The filly wiggles, impatient to go back to playing with the wrapping paper.

“What do you think, little missy? You like Tiara?”

The pony wiggles and fidgets.

“Or do you like Diamond?”

The pony fidgets and wiggles.

Lucy chuckles and lets the little princess go play. “You’re like, no help at all. Whatever, we can choose a name later.”


June, 2004


Diamond Tiara is a star.

Wherever she goes, everyone stops to look and point and wonder Who is that adorable filly with the bright blue eyes? When did Lucy get such an amazing creature? Can they come say hello or give her a treat?

Miss Bethany asks Lucy, “Are there any others?”

But Lucy smiles and says, “Diamond’s one of a kind. No pony’s like her.”

“How do you get her to sit still all day and wear that adorable little outfit?” asks Miss Ashlyn. She looks between the growling Chihuahua in her purse and the pink pony nibbling a bagel inside Lucy’s new Louis Vuitton. “I can never get Hyatt to behave at all.”

Diamond Tiara blinks at the big-eared doggie glaring across the food court table. It shows its teeth and growls. The doggie doesn’t seem to like her very much, which is strange, because everyone loves her. They say such nice things, pet her head, and give her sugar cubes and slices of fruit. Diamond isn’t always sure she likes meeting so many new people. Not everyone knows you should be gentle with a princess and sometimes they do things like hug too hard or pull on her mane.

Sometimes, people want to come and talk to Lucy instead. That would be okay, except then Lucy’s so busy talking to them, she forgets to talk to Diamond Tiara. Once, when Brian came over he talked to Lucy for a really long time and neither of them wanted to play or talk to her or anything all night. It was a long time before they had dinner, which meant Diamond had to wait, too.

The filly stretches her neck to get a better look at the doggie in Miss Ashlyn’s bag. Maybe he’s mad because Ashlyn’s talking about Diamond instead of him. He’s jealous. That’s what Lucy always says when someone won’t let Diamond into buildings or yells when Diamond eats at the table.

It used to make her sad when people did that, but she knows better, now. They’re just jealous because they don’t have a perfect little pony to take care of. Lucy said so. And Lucy is never, ever, wrong.

July, 2004


On Tuesdays and Thursdays, Maria comes to clean the Burdock house. Back from a well-earned family vacation for the past few months, she’s ready to get back to work. Sandwiched between go-getter households and nitpicking nouveau riche, the Burdock place has always been the breather in her busy schedule. She has the usual chores (dusting, floor waxing, patio sweeping) but it feels more like housesitting. Maria’s often finished before noon and spends most of the afternoon with telenovelas. Lucille isn’t sloppy to start with and anyway, there’s only so much one young woman can do in a twelve bedroom home.

The only days there’s any real mess to clean are after Lucy throws a party. However, one good look at the chaos stretching across the Burdock house, it’s clear that this mess wasn’t made by 20-somethings or teenagers.

Cookie jars and candy dishes tipped over. The curtains in the sitting room pulled back, twisted and warped into bizarre shapes. Crumbs littering couch cushions, throw pillows everywhere but their proper place, heaps of blankets in the living room. Juice stains on the carpet, food stains on the armchairs. And toys. Everywhere. Plastic clowns in the sink, sparkly balls on the stairs, a rubber horseshoe and a herd of seahorses float in a half-full tub, and a big plush piglet in the kitchen, fur prickly and crusty where something spilled on it.

Of course, none of this compares to one of the upstairs bedrooms. It looks like KB Toys exploded all over it, along with a couple of Baby Gaps.

Maria picks up a little purple tutu covered in sequins, a blue polka dot dress, and footie pajamas patterned with horseshoes. They’re all about the right size for a toddler, though she didn’t see a crib or a high chair anywhere in the house. Underneath a clump of blankets and dirty sheets, there’s a twin-sized bed, though. The arch window next to it is half covered in glittery stickers in chaotic patterns. It brings to mind the time her son got those Toy Story stickers from the dentist and almost ruined the wallpaper. Maria isn’t looking forward to cleaning this window.

It’s all so strange. Maria Flores knows what all these clues lead to, but it seems so unlikely. The time doesn’t add up for pregnancy and Miss Burdock doesn’t seem the type to adopt. Can’t be a niece; Lucille is an only child as far as Maria knows.

When Miss Burdock comes back that night, she just has to ask.

“Excuse me, I was wondering, do you have a baby living here? Or a little child?”

Lucy stares at the maid like she’s gone crazy. “What? Of course not. You know I’m no good with kids.” She sets her bag on the kitchen floor and takes the time to kick off her high heels and give her feet a needed rub. “Look I don’t wanna keep you too long, but can you draw me a hot bath?”

“It’s no problem. I’ll get right…” Maria pauses as the leather Gucci tips over and a tiny pink horse tumbles out. It’s wearing a little sailor suit.

“Uh…”

“Oh, that’s Diamond Tiara. Say hi, Di.”

The pony clip-clops over and investigates Maria’s shoes. The maid chuckles with a sigh. For a while there, she was worried.


October, 2004



The Hilton ballroom doesn’t allow animals and no amount of pleading, bribes, or threats to sue will change their mind. No animals in the hotel unless they are a service animal (and no, Miss Burdock, emotional companionship does not count, yes we checked).

The choice is either leave Diamond Tiara at home or miss Becca Swanson’s Hilton Halloween Haunt. Juggling costume makeup in one hand and nail polish in the other, Lucy flips open her phone and speed-dials Maria.


It is a three-hour drive to the Burdock residence. She left a client early and had to bribe her daughter to take her brother Trick-or-Treating.

For a pony. The emergency was the pony. It’s all Maria can do to keep from glowering.

“Oh man, thanks so much, Maria. You’re the best. She won’t be too much trouble, I promise.”

“I still don’t understand why you can’t just leave the pony alone. Why? We leave Pacha in the yard all the time, Pacha is fine.” She rolls her eyes at the snoring filly in the armchair. “Normal ponies sleep in stables, you know."

Lucy puts a hand on her hip. “Diamond isn’t a normal horse. She’s special. Besides, I never left her alone before and sometimes she gets into stuff. What if she, like, eats some makeup or whatever?”

Maria sighs. These rich people. They think their animals are children.

Diamond Tiara’s nice dream is interrupted by hugs and kisses. She screws up her face and squirms.

They must be going somewhere nice. Lucy’s wearing her new striped dress, the one they looked for all day last week. (The fuzzy ears on top of her head are a little strange, though.) Diamond’s still a little grouchy at being woken up, but she can always go back to sleep in the bag. Which one will it be today? She hopes it’s the tan Gucchi or the shiny Prada. Those are really nice to sleep in.

But Diamond doesn’t see either of them on the floor, though. Or on the couch or on the table. All Lucy has is her orange clutch, barely big enough to fit her phone. But she must realize her mistake, because she’s going to get a better bag…why is she looking in the garage? Did she leave it in the car?

Diamond Tiara’s ears fly up. She hears an engine.

Pony or not, Maria never guessed a creature with such little legs could move so fast! The maid’s feet are nearly knocked out from under her as the tiny horse zips through her legs, scrambling and slipping on the kitchen tile. There’s the little clip-clop of hooves for a second, and then a pink blur’s beelining for the den.

Maybe it was a good idea to leave someone to pet-sit. Maria’s heard of this pet separation anxiety before, where dogs would tear up the house when their owners aren’t home. Better nip this in the bud right now.

She catches up just in time to see Diamond clambering on the loveseat by the window. The foal bangs her hooves on the glass as a blue convertible passes by. She runs back and forth along the top of the loveseat as the convertible gets smaller and smaller, eventually rounding the corner and vanishing completely.

The filly sits back down. Her ears twitch one way, then another.

Maria sighs in relief. Maybe there was nothing to worry about after—and there goes the vase.

Thanks to six years of track-and-field, she catches it before it shatters. She looks up just in time to see the filly kick two throw pillows and toss a third with her mouth.

“Hey!”

An alpaca blanket flutters in the air as Diamond Tiara snatches it off the ottoman.

“Hey, hey, no! You stop that!” Diamond thrashes as the blanket’s ripped from her mouth, thrashes harder as Maria picks her up. Maria has to hold the tiny horse at a distance to not get kicked in the face.

Doesn’t this thing have a leash? A stable? Something?

The filly twists her neck to glare with those huge eyes, blue and absolutely furious. Maria never thought an animal could look so…angry. And not just angry, but upset. It’s almost like…

Diamond Tiara screams. It does not sound like a horse. That is a baby—a human baby—scream.

“Dios mío!” Maria drops the pony.

She can only stare as the foal goes to war on the remaining throw pillows and stomps the Italian leather. The little pink chest heaves.

This is how horror movies start.

The alpaca blanket is kicked aside, with less venom than before. Diamond paws at the carpet. She throws back her head and screams again, a long piping wail that stretches and stretches until it breaks into sobs. The horse actually sobs. Tears and everything.

Tiny horse or no tiny horse, Maria Flores knows a tantrum when she sees one. She’ll worry about her sanity later.

“That’s enough, missy.” Diamond struggles as the maid scoops her up again, but not much. She seems to have exhausted herself. “Look at that mess, you proud of yourself?”

Diamond Tiara sniffles and blinks at the carnage her tantrum wrought. Her silky tail flicks against Maria’s arms. She hiccups and sniffs again.

“Ssh, Lucy’s coming back.” She brushes lavender curls from Diamond’s eyes. “You think she wants to come back to a big fuss?” Oh god, I am talking to a pony.

The filly pouts, but she’s stopped crying at least. She fidgets and snorts.

Oh god, I think the pony understands. “Look, Maria will make your dinner, ok? A nice big bowl of oatmeal and honey, huh?”

Diamond wipes her nose on Maria’s sleeve.

What have I gotten myself into...


November, 2004


“Hi, Maria. Thanks for watching my little Diamond for me.”

“Miss Burdock, listen—”

“I know, I know. I got back like, way later than I said I was, soooo… ta-da! Check it out, Merlot 1987. They were giving them out as party favors, you can have it.”

“Uh, thank you. Diamond fell asleep in your bed, and I didn’t want to move her. She—”

“How was darling Diamond Tiara? …Ugh, great. Now Daisy texts me back.”

“That’s the thing. When you left, she… cried.”

“Hm? Oh, yeah I thought she might. Do you want me to walk you out?”

“No, you don’t understand. She cried. Screamed. Like a…. a toddler.”

“Aw, poor Diamond. But she got over it, right?”

“Eventually, but it was literally like—”

“Great, I knew she’d be okay. Thanks a bunch again, Maria. You’re a lifesaver. Night!”

“I… fine. Goodnight, Miss Lucille.”


February, 2005


Diamond Tiara tilts her neck at juuuust the right way so her new gold necklace can flash in the sun. The horseshoe charm matches her new blue sweater and little yellow booties perfectly.

“What a pretty filly!”

Diamond grins and puts her nose in the air. Lucy kisses it.

“You sure are!”

Of course she is. Saying so is like saying the sky is blue or plaid is hideous. It’s just a fact of life. Still, she nods as Lucy nods to affirm it and gladly accepts the ear rubs.

The necklace is the perfect end to a perfect day. The spring season is coming in soon. Spring means they get to go to the shopping center, the really good one. Today’s had new toys and clothes and brushes, and a trip to the spa. The spa was just for Lucy, but Diamond liked watching. And now there’s brand new jewelry to look pretty in!

Lucy’s always loved Diamond (the presents and attention are proof of that) but lately, she seems to love her even more than usual. The pony wonders if it’s because Brian isn’t here to distract her.

They haven’t seen Brian in a while. Back when green trees and pretty decorations were all over the mall, Lucy and Brian yelled at each other. Diamond really hadn’t liked that. It was almost as bad as the time Lucy accidentally left her at home. They talked really soft at first, but their voices sounded… hard. Then Brian got really loud and scary and that made Lucy get loud and scary.

Diamond isn’t sure what happened after that, because she hid in the Louis Vuitton. She just knows that soon after, Lucy was stomping so hard the bag banged around and made Diamond’s stomach upset. When the filly got sick in the bag, she was really scared Lucy would yell at her too. Lucy didn’t notice, though. But she did cry a lot.

But it’s all okay, now! There’s more cuddles and presents than ever, with so many new dresses. Not just for Diamond Tiara, but for Lucy too! The day after all the yelling, they had so many bags they had to make two trips.

It’s so much better without Brian. Lucy can pay attention to important things. Diamond’s decided she never liked Brian anyway. His hair was stupid and he never said nice things to her, and he smelled weird. Sometimes he’d lock the door and keep Lucy all to himself all night, and didn’t even care if Diamond was waiting outside. Who needs stupid, selfish people like that hanging around all the time?

On the way home, Lucy gets an ice cream cake for her (she says it’s for Maria’s birthday, but it’s still Diamond’s cake). It’s rainbow on the outside and chocolate on the inside. It’s cold and chewy and the best thing Diamond Tiara’s ever, ever had.

But eventually, she’s finished. She licks a few crumbs off the chilly plate, and then looks around. Lucy and Maria are still eating ice cream cake, but they’re standing up and the cake is on the counter. Too high for Diamond to jump.

They have cake. Diamond does not have cake. This is a problem.

Lucy needs to fix this, but she’s too busy talking to Maria. Neither of them will look at her, even when she waves her hoof and smiles.

Diamond Tiara stomps a firm little hoof on the linoleum. “More.”

Lucy and Maria get quiet. They look at her, then at each other, then at Diamond again. Their mouths are moving around, but no sound comes out. Lucy’s eyes get really, really big. She looks silly.

Lucy drops her fork, still holding ice cream cake.

Diamond Tiara licks it off and laughs, delighted. “More!”

Solitaire

View Online

May, 2005


“That one’s a house!”

“Good.” Maria holds up another flashcard. “And what’s this one?”

“Boat!”

“Ah, but what kind?”

Diamond Tiara looks at the triangle on top. “Sailboat.”

“And what color is it?”

“White and red,” announces the filly. She points at Maria. “Like your earrings!”

“It sure is. Very good job, Diamond Tiara.” She gives the little pony’s ears a scratch. “You’re pretty good at this.”

But Diamond isn’t listening. (She already knows she’s smart and good at flashcards.) Her ears twitch at the sound of Lucy’s heels pacing back and forth in the hall downstairs. It’s a tense little clip-clip-clip, the way it sounds when Lucy’s upset about something.

The filly’s ears twitch again. Lucy’s talking to someone on the phone downstairs. She’s trying to be quiet, but the high ceiling throws the echoes up to the second floor and if Diamond listens closely, she can hear from her room.

Yeah, I know. I know—you know what? Whatever, this isn’t about that… Dammit Brian, would you just shut up and listen for once? No, it can’t wait.

Why would Lucy want to talk to Brian? Brian just makes her upset.

Just lemme ask you something. Where did you get my pony? Really.”

“Now, what’s this picture, Diamond?”

The filly glances at the card, but she’s not really looking at it. Her ears start to droop as Lucy’s voice rises.

Don’t lie to me, Brian!...Yes, you are! You SO are. I looked it up and asked some people and there is no such thing as a teacup pony.”

“Diamond Tiara?”

Because! No, I don’t care how much you spent, that’s no—okay, you know what? Maybe you wouldn’t have had anything to make up for if you weren’t fooling around with Amber in the first place.”

Lucy’s clip-clip-clip goes to a stomp-stomp-stomp.

Just answer me. Where did you get the—”

“Diamond!” Maria snaps her fingers a few inches from the filly’s nose. “Are you feeling okay? What’s the matter?”

“Um. Nothing.” The filly shuffles her hooves and looks back at the card. “That’s a box. It’s brown, like a log.”

Lucy’s moved into another room and shut the door behind her. Diamond Tiara can’t hear what she’s saying anymore.


November, 2005

“But why?”

“Diamond, I told you why twice already. It’s a secret.”

The filly sulks in the Prada bag as Lucy buckles the seatbelt for her. They haven’t been out for a real shopping trip since wintertime. It’s been forever since she’s even left the house. Diamond’s been so excited for today and then it has to go and get ruined because she can’t talk.

It doesn’t make any sense. Lucy seemed so excited when she first started talking. They talk to each other all the time now, and it makes everything a lot easier. Instead of pointing and waiting until somebody sees, now Diamond can just say what she wants and then she gets it. Or she says what she doesn’t want and doesn’t get it.

Sometimes, with things like bedtime or eating alfalfa, she has to tell Lucy a lot and very loudly to get what she wants, but she always comes around for Diamond. And how could she not?

But today, no matter how many times Diamond tells Lucy what she wants, Lucy won’t budge. It’s really annoying.

“But I practiced, Lucy!” She wiggles her shoulders out of the bag, so she can see better. “I worked really hard with my cards, even the ones without pictures and now I don’t need ‘em anymore. I read you that book about the cat with the hat, remember? Lucy, you remember?”

“I remember.”

“I thought you liked when I talked. How come you don’t want me to talk anymore?”

“You can,” Lucy sighs, “just not around people.”

“Maria and you are people.”

“I mean besides us.”

Diamond Tiara twists up her face. It’s not fair. She was planning to read all the store signs for Lucy and now she can’t.

“But whyyyyyyyyyy?” Diamond’s practically spilling out of the Prada as she kicks her little forelegs. “I have a beautiful voice, listen: we belong to-ge-therrrr,” she croons in perfect pitch with the lady on the radio.

“Look, it’s because you…” Lucy glances at Diamond, then back at the road. “You’ll… make them jealous. Like, really jealous.”

The filly blinks. “So?” That never mattered before.

“Well, it’s not very nice to make people jealous.”

Diamond Tiara wrinkles her nose. That doesn’t seem like a good reason at all. “I don’t like it…’snot fair.”

“That’s just how it is, Di. Look, it’ll still be fun, right? Same as always, just no talking. I’ll get you an ice cream, okay?”

The filly pouts.

“And a toy.”

“Okaaaay,” Diamond sighs. It isn’t, though.


March, 2006


“You’re going already?”

“Yep.”

“Are you sure I can’t come?”

“Oh, maybe next time, princess. I’ll be back soon.”

“Before I go to bed?”

“We’ll see. Kiss-kiss, my pretty little Diamond. I’ll bring you back something nice, okay?”

“Okay.”


September, 2006


The worst word in the whole world is No. It’s all Diamond Tiara ever hears anymore.

No, you can’t talk in public.

No, you need to go to bed and see Lucy in the morning.

No, you can’t go to the party.

No, put that down.

No, don’t jump around the house.

No, I have to go.

No, you can’t come.

No, you have to stay here.

No, you’re too big to fit in the purse.

That last one is new. Diamond pointed out that she didn’t mind walking, but Lucy said no anyways and now she has to stay inside.

Inside is stupid. Stupid and boring. Lucy always brings backs lots of cool stuff to make up for it, but just getting stuff at home isn’t as fun.

Maria comes over when the big hand is on the six and the little hand is on the ten. She joins Diamond at the big window in the den. Maria asks if Diamond wants to paint or play dress up or look at books.

Diamond Tiara stays where she is, curled up by the window. She gives Maria the same answer every time: “No.”


February, 2007


The alarm clock bounces off the wall and hits the floor with a clang. One, two, three pillows go flying next, bowling over Dreamhouses and tea sets. The plush throw rugs flip over themselves and elegant end tables topple.

It’s a huge mess Maria will just make her clean up later. Lucy’s going to complain. Diamond Tiara doesn’t care. Let her complain. Whatever, who cares what dumb Lucy says? “It’s not like she cares what I think. It’s not fair, this is so lame!”

The little pony’s warpath crashes through a pile of blankets, where she discovers a pig doll the size of a watermelon. It’s wearing a little white coat and a stethoscope around its neck. She holds it up and gives an appraising glare.

Dr. Truffles was Diamond’s favorite present last Christmas. When you squeeze his hoof, he oinks.

The filly snorts. She wraps her hooves around his neck and just shakes him and shakes him and shakes him.

“Oink-oink!” the toy squeals. “Diagnosis: I love you!”

Diamond Tiara throws Dr. Truffles at the door and screeches until her face is purple and her throat hurts.

“This is my house! I can do whatever I want, and nobody’s gonna stop me!” She tugs and twists the doorknob again, just in case it’s opened somehow. It hasn’t.

Kicking the door doesn’t do anything but hurt her hoof, so she throws shoes at it instead. The sound of Mary Janes and rain boots (why does she even have rainboots if she never goes outside? Stupid.) smacking the wood is satisfying, but not enough.

Diamond flips a checkerboard as she prowls her room for something else to punish. She rounds on a pink heap by the bookshelf and rolls it over, prepared to kick it into next week.

It’s Dr. Truffles. He’s missing one of his eyes and stuffing’s spilling from a tear in his nose. Oh no…. But maybe he’s still okay? Just press his hoof like always and…

“Diiiiagggg-diag-no-nossssssiiiizzzzz….” And he doesn’t say any more.

Diamond’s throat gets tight. She can feel hot tears welling up, but she wipes them on Truffles’ coat. His remaining button eye sadly glimmers at her.

“Quit making me feel bad, you’re the doctor around here. Fix your eye yourself.” Diamond grabs him up by the collar. “Maybe if you weren’t talking all the time, maybe you wouldn’t make me so mad. You started this. Whoever heard of a talking pig anyway?”

The pig stares at her.

“Yeah? Well maybe I want someone else to be with, Doctor!”

Dr. Truffles’ coat flutters in the ceiling fan’s breeze.

“Ugh, that is SO like you, Doctor. Well, you know what?”

Diamond grabs Truffles’ floppy ear in her teeth and drags him to the closet. “If you’re gonna act that way, you can just go to your room. Nobody wants you here anyway!”

The filly stomps and looks away from the sad heap of pig, lonely in the dark. ...Dr. Truffles looks sad all by himself.

Diamond sniffs and shakes her mane away from her face. He doesn’t deserve it, but she gives Truffles a hug. Her face buries in his soft fur and hugs as hard as she can. She didn’t really mean to hurt him.

“This is all Aaron’s fault,” she whispers.

Aaron is the worst, but he’s all Lucy seems to talk about anymore. He’s why Lucy doesn’t come home until after Diamond’s asleep. He’s why Lucy doesn’t want to play or go shopping anymore. And Aaron’s why Diamond wasn’t allowed to talk outside her room tonight, in her own house.

So when Lucy wasn’t looking, Diamond “accidentally” knocked the jar of roses into Aaron’s lap and got water all over his tacky leather pants. It was hilarious.

“It was supposed to make him leave.” The filly leans her head on Dr. Truffles and sighs. Lucy was supposed to laugh at him too, not yell at Diamond and lock her in her room.

“Everything stinks.”


August, 2007


It’s been a while since Diamond’s been in Lucy’s room. But then, it’s been a while since she’s had a reason.

It’s the prettiest room in the house, bigger than the reading room and the game room and the study put together. Just like Diamond’s room, there’s a bathroom and a walk-in closet, though Lucy’s are bigger. The walls are the pretty blue of swimming pools, with yellow and white curlicues along the border.

The stereo system pipes music from all corners of the room, some country song about smashing stuff. Diamond glances around and hums. She could hear the music all the way down the hallway, and that can only mean…

She noses open the closet door and grins. “Hey, Lucy!” She flinches as the echo bounces off the walls. That was louder than she meant…

Lucy doesn’t seem to mind, though. She glances over her shoulder, arms full of capris and tank tops. “Hi, Diamond.”

“I thought you were going to the beach today.”

“Nah, Bethany had to cancel.” She absently runs her fingers through her hair. This month, it’s dyed a pretty yellowy brown, like an autumn leaf. Or maybe that’s the color it always was. Diamond’s not sure. “They say it’s supposed to rain today, so I figured I’d go ahead and start cleaning out my closet. Never too early to plan for fall.”

Lucy places the capris on a stack in the corner, along with the miniskirts and shorts. “You wanna help me?”

Diamond blinks at the towers of clothes surrounding her. “How?”

“Check out the bottom shelves and root out the summer stuff from last year.”

“When everybody was wearing scarves and those ugly shoes with all the holes?” The filly holds a slingback strap of one of the culprits in her teeth.

“Yeah, just go and put ‘em in their piles.”

“Okay.” Diamond digs into the shelves, scooping out the other Croc shoe and a pair of wedge sandals.

Lucy makes some small talk about the weather and what she’s going to wear tomorrow, but it’s more like she’s talking to herself, all low and quiet. She keeps running her hands through her hair and when she glances at Diamond Tiara, it’s for a second before looking away. Like she’s nervous or something. Or confused. It’s the same look she gets with bills and exes.

Diamond tosses a newsboy cap on the pile. “What’s the matter? Did Aaron break up with you?” She flicks her tail and humphs. “I knew he was a butt.”

“Just boring Lucy stuff. And he is not a butt.”

“Is too.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Think black will be in this year?”

“Probably.” Diamond shrugs and categorizes the ballet flats. “Black’s in every year. Blue’s s’posed to come back. The kind that goes with my eyes?”

Hidden somewhere in the racks of clothes, Lucy chuckles. “Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you. Your stuff is coming too.”

The filly’s head jerks up. “Does that mean we can go shopping?”

“I thought you could pick something out online.” She’s playing with her hair again. “You don’t really need to go out to shop.”

Diamond Tiara sighs. Then sighs louder, just in case nobody heard her.

“Come on, Di.” Lucy digs deeper into the racks, though Diamond could have sworn she’d gone through that one already. “What’s so great about going out to the mall anyway? Fighting all those crowds and stuff, ew.”

Diamond hunches her shoulders and tosses out a scarf. Fighting crowds was the best part. When you beat somebody to a sale or got the last exclusive sweater, it was like winning. Winning is awesome. Getting it online’s like buying a trophy.

Most of the old clothes are cleared out now, just a floppy hat left. But there’s something behind the hat…something shiny. Real shiny, like jewelry, but why would there be jewelry in the closet and not the shelves?

It takes a bit of digging before she finds it. A big glass box and in it is a little platinum crown, diamond-studded and sparkly as a star. It sits on a gold and white sash that reads Buchanan High Senior Prom 2001.

And there, in back, it’s a picture of Lucy! She looks a little younger and her hair’s totally different, but it’s definitely her. The little plaque below her (and Brian, gross!) says so.

“Lucy! Lucyyyyy!” The filly pushes it to the center of the closet so Lucy can see. “You never told me you were a queen!”

Does that mean Diamond Tiara really is a princess? Princesses were stuck in fancy castles all the time in movies, so maybe that’s the real reason she can’t go anywhere. It all adds up!

But then Lucy laughs and says, “Don’t I wish!”

Diamond frowns. “But the picture says so. And pics don’t lie.”

“Di, I wasn’t a real queen, just prom queen. For high school, see?” She kneels down to point at Puke Face Brian. “And they voted Brian as King.”

“You don’t vote for kings.”

Lucy smirks. “You do in America.” She flips the lid open and slides out the photo so Diamond can see the whole thing. There’s so many people in the background, laughing and dancing. In the photo, Lucy’s smile is big and white as she cries happy tears. “Man, that was a beautiful night. Whole school was there.”

Diamond grins. “You mean you really went to high school? Like they do on TV?”

“Yep.”

The little pony’s eyes get huge. “Wow…” It’s even better than being a regular queen. In high school, there’s loads of people, but only the best kind of people are on top. Everybody loves them because they’re so pretty and smart and nobody ever makes them stay inside all day. And they got tiaras too?

“So… you got this because they voted.” Diamond taps her hoof on the glass. “Everyone decided you were the best.”

“Something like that. But we gotta get back to this closet.”

Diamond Tiara sits quietly, watching as the case is pushed back in the dark.

“Hey Diamond, you think I should keep this cloche hat? I don’t think it works with my hair…”

The pony doesn’t answer. She taps her hoof on the carpet, deep in thought.

It’s clear by now that Diamond’s not going to get what she wants by asking for it. Not anymore. Lucy’s gotten good at saying no. And tantrums just make Lucy go away and not want to talk at all.

Diamond Tiara walks back to her room with new resolve. It’s time for a plan. She’ll have to be patient and it might get ugly. But it’ll be worth it. Oh, it’ll be so worth it.


January, 2008


“Maria, may I please help you with the dusting?”

“…Why?”

“I just want to help. I already made my bed and put away all my toys, so you don‘t have to help me do it.”

“You did that?”

“Of course!”

“Who are you and what have you done with the real Diamond Tiara?”


May, 2008


Maria frowns. “Diamond, there are other things to do around the house.”

The filly shakes her head. “No there’s not, all the chores are finished.”

“I mean there are other fun things for us to do instead. We could play chess or Monopoly. You love Monopoly.”

“No, thank you.” Diamond Tiara points to the DVD on the high shelf. “I want that.”

Maria sighs, “You’ve seen that seven times this week. And it’s only Wednesday.”

“Please?”

“Niña, isn’t there anything else you want to watch? Look, what about this instead?” Maria holds it in front of her, smiling like a game show host. “Look, this one has colorful ponies like you. And there’s music.”

The filly lifts an eyebrow, “But do they sing?”

“Well, no…”

“Do they play basketball?”

“No, but—”

“No thank you, Maria. I would like that one, instead.” Diamond smiles politely.

The maid rubs her temples. “Ay, Diamond. Fine, fine. But I’m not singing this time.”

“Aw, but Mariaaaaaa. You gotta sing the other parts. I can’t sing to myself, that would be weird. You can just sing five songs.”

“I will sing one song.”

“Four.”

“Two.”

“Three.”

“…Deal. But Maria is not dancing.”

The maid puts her hands on her hips. “No. I have been on my feet all day and I am tired. No dancing.”

“Oh, alright. But you are singing, right?”

Maria nods and groans as she slides in the High School Musical DVD. If she’s lucky, maybe Diamond Tiara won’t make her watch the sequel…but she doesn’t bet on it.


August, 2008


“Look, Lucy! I arranged all your classic Vogue issues and picked shoes for your outfit tomorrow. I got three pairs you can choose from, and they’re the same colors for the party theme, see?” Diamond puffs out her chest and smiles.

Lucy smiles back and strokes her ears. “That’s really sweet of you, princess!” She pauses, “You still can’t come to the party, though…”

The filly swishes her tail. It’s elegantly coiffed and curled. Maria’s said that lately, Diamond Tiara’s done all the grooming and primping herself with no help. And she’s been doing chores.

She must be really bored. Maybe for her birthday next month (a date they picked out of a hat), Lucy will get her an Xbox and Rock Band. It’s something they can all play together and Diamond likes singing.

“Oh, that’s alright. I don’t mind staying behind.” Diamond’s smile is as bright as her voice. …Has she been practicing?

At the back of the room, Maria looks up as she’s packing to go. She looks at the pony but says nothing.

“By the way, have I mentioned how amazing you look in that outfit? You are so ready for next season. Oh, and that bob haircut? So bold!” Diamond winks. “Very Lucy.”

Lucy exchanges looks with Maria and smiles. “Thank you, Di. That’s sweet to say.”

“Oh, but it’s true! Also, did I mention I brushed my teeth without anybody telling me for eight months straight? I just thought I’d mention it.”

Maria zips up her coat and crosses her arms. “Alright, Miss Diamond Tiara. What do you want?”

“Wh—Maria!” The filly clasps her hooves to her chest. “What makes you think I want something?”

Maria gives a flat stare.

“But now that you mention it…” Diamond Tiara turns to Lucy, fluttering her lashes. “My birthday is coming up.”

Maria nods. “And there’s the other shoe.”

Diamond Tiara takes a deep breath and sits, straightening her back to look at them like the perfect little pony she is. A year of prep, work, and research has all come down to this moment. You got this, Diamond!

Her voice is high and firm, so no word can be mistaken. “Lucy, I want to go to school.” Diamond smiles, closes her eyes, and tilts her ears to catch that beautiful sound of “yes”.

She waits a few seconds. Then a few more.

Silence.

She looks from Lucy to Maria, who are looking at each other as if they don’t understand what’s been said.

“I want to go to school!” Diamond says again. Maybe they didn’t hear.

Lucy bites her lip. She plays with her bracelets and stares at Maria with pleading eyes. Fix this.

Maria shakes her head. It’s not her pony to tell.

“What’s wrong?” Diamond Tiara frowns. “What did I for—oh! I forgot the ‘please’. I would like to go to school, please.”

Lucy sighs.

Diamond’s ears droop.

“Princess…honey, you gotta understand…”

Tightness grips Diamond’s chest. “What’s to understand? I did everything right, didn’t I? Yeah, I got water on the floor that one time I took care of the plants, but I helped Maria clean up. I’ve been really good, Lucy!”

But Lucy’s not looking at her.

“I have! I didn’t cry or fuss, not even when you got me got the wrong kind of hat at Christmas. I haven’t cried or complained that much, right? I-I’ve been good, haven’t I?”

Silence.

“Haven’t I?!”

“You know, Di, Maria and me already teach you things. We could order textbooks and have class at home.” Lucy shrugs and smiles. “It’s just as good, right?”

“That is not school. There are people in schools. More than two and I want to go there, not here.

“Yes, people. Not ponies.” Lucy plays with her charm bracelet. It makes little clinking sounds. “Ponies can’t go to school.”

“Why?”

Lucy opens her mouth, then closes it. “Hey, you can get lots of other cool stuff for your birthday, right?”

Both women brace, ready for the tornado of tantrums boiling behind the filly’s eyes. Maria’s ready to catch a thrown object any second.

But Diamond Tiara doesn’t throw anything.

She doesn’t scream. She doesn’t cry. She doesn’t even raise her voice.

“You could have just said no.”

A Diamond is Forever

View Online

December, 2008

The eight-foot tree is solid white, looped top to bottom in blinking purple LEDs and sparkling gold tinsel, just as she wanted.

Breakfast is fresh waffles, topped with organic blueberries and Vermont maple syrup with a side of sugar-frosted plums, just as she wanted.

Out of eighty-six Christmas presents, eighty-five are precisely what she requested, down to the smallest detail.

It’s almost perfect. Almost isn’t good enough. Curled in a spiteful little ball atop her armchair throne, Diamond Tiara glowers.

Below her gleams a little battery-powered 2009 Lexus LF-A Roadster with authentic rubber tires, power steering, working floodlights, heated suede seats, air-conditioning, a built-in mp3 player/satellite radio, and cup holders. A pair of fuzzy pink and purple dice dangle from the window. When you honk the novelty horn, it beeps the chorus from Bop to the Top. The platinum-framed license plate reads D.T.

It’s been custom-made for a filly’s proportions, so her hooves can work the wheel and pedals. The commissioner thought Lucy was absolutely crazy. For this price, it would be cheaper to just buy a real Lexus.

“It’s the wrong color,” Diamond Tiara sneers. “I wanted a yellow one, not silver.” She throws a wad of metallic wrapping paper at it, where it sticks behind the windshield wipers. “I hate it.”

“Santa did his best,” Lucy says.

“Well, his best isn’t good enough.” Diamond snorts and crosses her forelegs. “Or do I not deserve the best, now?”

“Of course you do, Di.” Lucy shakes her head and sighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure Santa fixes it.”

The little pony tosses her curls over her shoulders and snorts again. “Good.”


January, 2009


A goldenrod miniature Lexus LF-A Roadster collects dust in a lonely corner of the Burdock house. Diamond Tiara drove it for an hour and a half, got bored with it, and went upstairs to watch television.

What’s the point of a car when you can’t drive it anywhere?


March, 2009


“Hey, Diamond.”

“Yeah?”

“I was thinking of driving up to Raleigh for a little bit of shopping. You wanna come?”

Lucy leans against the bedroom door and smiles hopefully. She did some research, called around, and found an animal-friendly shopping center with lots of high-end boutiques. If they leave in the morning and go on a weekday, they can beat the crowds. During the test run last week the place was a total ghost town. Even if Diamond decides to talk up a storm it’ll probably be okay.

The filly shifts in her beanbag chair. She doesn’t look up from the TV screen, though one of her ears is swiveled in Lucy’s direction. “No, thanks. You know what I like.”

“You sure?”

“…Yeah.” Canned laughter ripples from the speakers as Miley Cyrus fumbles. Diamond’s ear swivels back. “I’m sure.”

When she hears the door close, Diamond sits up. She looks at the door for a while, flicking her tail. The beanbag rustles as she lays back down and turns the volume back up.


May, 2009


Maria stores the wet bucket in the linen closet, cracks her back, and slinks to the dining room to wait for the floor to dry. The shoes come off first, with a good foot rub for her toes. She slides into one of the soft chairs, eyes closed.

The good thing about houses with no carpets is less vacuuming and there’s no daylong shampooing. Of course, there's sweeping, mopping, and waxing but it’s still better than carpet cleaning.

Mid-afternoon sunshine warms her shoulders as the sound of chirping blackbirds drifts through the open window. Lace curtains flutter in the breeze and the spring air mingles with the scent of Pine Sol.

“Mariiiiaaaaaaaaaaaaa!”

So much for peace.

“I’m in the dining room. And come through the back way, don’t you come through the kitch—”

“MARIIIIIIAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

“The dining room!”

The kitchen echoes with little hooves clacking across the linoleum. Something knocks over as the hooves slip and scramble for traction. The clacks start again, slightly slower this time.

Maria opens one eye and cringes at the lines of hoofprints stretching from the kitchen to the dining hall.

Diamond Tiara blinks up at her as she prods a pair of pleather flats with her wet hoof. “…You should really get better shoes. These are really ugly.” The fur on her left haunch is prickly and damp from where she fell, though she doesn’t seem hurt.

“Ay, Diamond! I just waxed that.”

The filly glances behind her and shrugs. “So do it again?” She arches a little eyebrow and blinks. “And if you didn’t make me come all the way in here it wouldn’t have happened. So really, it’s your fault.”

Maria moves her flats closer but doesn’t put them on. “What is it, Diamond?”

“My hoof polish is chipped and you need to fix it.” She holds out her hoof to show: a barely visible splotch in the sparkly white. “Also, there’s a knot in my tail.”

“Isn’t there something we say first?”

The little pony takes a seat. “Now.” She tosses her mane over her shoulder and frowns.

It’s an all-too-familiar sight: a simmering little arc of disapproval that shrinks, but never quite leaves. On good days, it slackens into a neutral line. On bad days, it twists into a sneer or curdles into a scowl. Maria would make threats about the filly’s face sticking that way if that didn’t seem the case already.

Maria never thought it possible, but she misses the tantrums. Those were tornadoes, terrible bursts of noise and fury, but if you let them run their course, they petered out quickly. Diamond’s ugly attitude is a drought: steady, grueling, and slowly dragging down everything with it. No sign of rain since last Thanksgiving.

Diamond Tiara stamps her chipped hoof. “Mariaaaa, now!”

“That’s really rude, Diamond Tiara.” The maid leans forward, one elbow resting on her knee. “You know, I liked it a lot better when you were nice to everybody. And I think you did, too.”

“Tch. You’re just saying that ‘cause I was doing, like, half your work for you.” Diamond wrinkles her nose at Maria’s disappointed frown. She shifts her shoulders and decides to look at the blackbird family nesting in the poplar tree. “Not like being nice ever got anybody anything anyway.”

“You know, in four years I’ve never seen you smile as much as I saw you smile last year. I think you got back more than you think.”

Diamond glances back to Maria. For a second, the frown shrinks. “Whatever.” And then it’s back with a vengeance. “I still have this knot in my tail. You gonna fix it or not?”

The maid reaches to investigate. The tail is a bit tangled at the end, but it’s nothing major. “You’re really telling me you can’t tease out that knot? After all that time doing it by yourself?”

“Um.” The pink filly blinks at her tail, then back at Maria. “Yes?”

“Yes you can, Diamond. We both know it.”

Diamond rolls her eyes.

“And if you can’t, now’s the perfect time to learn because you’ll have to fix your own tail soon, anyway. I’ll be taking time off in a couple weeks for Carmen’s quince.”

“Who?” The tiny horse pouts, more than a little offended.

A bit sick of leaning down to talk, the maid places Diamond in the chair next to her. “I told you before, Carmen’s my daughter. She was in the picture I showed you, remember?”

The filly shrugs. “Kinda? But how come you can’t just have the keen-say and just come here after? …And what’s a keen-say?”

“A quince, Diamond. It’s short for quinceañera. A big, special party for girls when they turn fifteen. And Carmen deserves to have her mama there for the week.” She smirks at the look on Diamond’s face. “Yes, there are other people in the world than you, little miss.”

“But why take off a whole week just for a party?”

“Carmen will only turn fifteen once, Diamond Tiara. A quinceañera’s very important; it’s when a girl becomes a young lady.” Maria smiles. “And Carmen’s turned into a wonderful one. …Though I wish she’d invited less people. Girl invited half the school.”

Diamond’s ears prick. “And they’re all coming? Just for her?”

“Just for her.”

“Oooh, are you getting her a car? When they have big parties like that on MTV, they always get a car at the end. This one girl rode in on an elephant! And this other one, she had dancers and people that ate fire!”

Maria laughs. “I don’t think so. We rented a big place, but it’s a bit small for an elephant.”

“Oh.” Diamond Tiara studies her chipped hoof for a moment. Her ears twitch and she’s very quiet for a time. The gears in that pink head are turning. Maria can almost pinpoint the second before the filly declares, “I want one.”


June, 2009

A bundle of leggings and jackets go tumbling into a growing pile of discarded clothes. A few socks and a hatbox follow suit. Diamond Tiara takes a moment to adjust the flashlight in her mouth. Behind her, light from the hallway snakes into the room, but not enough to see with and the light switch is too high to reach by herself. Most of the other rooms have a button at filly height, but not this one. Why would it?

Diamond shoves a denim vest and a peasant skirt out of the way and wiggles her way farther in to mine the depths of Lucy’s closet. It’s deeper in here than she remembered. Or maybe there’s more stuff in here now. She digs out another pile of clothes and sweeps the flashlight over shadowy corners.

Something catches the light, a twinkle in the dark waiting to be found. Finally. She switches the flashlight to the other side of her mouth and follows the sparkle. Her hooves feel around in the shadows until she hits something solid. Glass. The filly gets a good grip and drags it out into the open.

Diamond twitches her ears. Keys in the front door. Footsteps. Lucy’s back.

She looks at the glass box, then at the closet door. There’s time to bolt for her room with her prize, but not enough to put everything back the way it was. Lucy would know something’s up.

No footsteps on the staircase, though. Maybe she’s just popping in for a second before she goes back out? Diamond waits.

The downstairs TV turns on, switching voice to voice to voice as the channels flick by. No more footsteps.

The filly relaxes. “Okay. You’re good, Di.”

Lucy never said Diamond couldn’t touch the tiara or made a rule about sneaking around in her room, so she probably won’t get in trouble if she’s caught. At most, she’d complain about the mess.

But if Lucy sees, she’s going to say something about it. She’s going to ask stuff. She’s going to stick around. And this is something Diamond wants to do alone. This is just for her.

Diamond didn’t count on the early return, but that’s ok. This won’t take long, she just wants to see real quick. She gently undoes the latch and opens the box.

The tiara is even prettier than she remembered. It’s small, but with all those little gems packed in together, it’s impossible to ignore once the light touches it. Little spots of refracted light dance on the closet walls and in Diamond’s eyes. It dazzles like a star, gorgeous, five-pointed, and fierce. All a princess deserves.

It says: I am glorious. Look at me. I am perfect. Love me. I deserve everything I have and more. Look at me. There is nothing like me and there never will be again. Look at me. Look at me and love me.

It is the most beautiful thing in the house. Maybe the whole world. More beautiful than Diamond. More beautiful than Lucy.

The filly reaches in the box. Her hoof flinches back as it touches the crown. Careful. Careful… With delicate precision, Diamond lifts it out and up. It hovers above her ears a moment before it’s gently eased upon her head. She knows it’s on tight when the metal prongs dig against her scalp.

Diamond Tiara sets the flashlight on its side so the light fans out at her hooves. She turns toward the triple mirror at the back of the closet.

“Oh. Oh, wow.”

On every side, from every angle is reflected a lovely pink filly, lavender and white curls spilling across her shoulders. Her blue eyes are wide, as if in awe of something. A little tiara glitters between her ears like the star atop a Christmas tree. Truly, this filly is beautiful.

Everybody who’s anybody wants to be near her, to be seen with her, at least for just a little while. Nobody would ever want to leave her home. Nobody would ever want to leave her at all. Because this filly is a winner. Everybody loves a winner.

Diamond Tiara smiles, then. It starts out small, but it grows. It grows until her face hurts from smiling so much. Because this filly is her. And surely, this tiara is hers. Sort of…it’s still Lucy’s, but… Diamond can’t say why or how, but she knows it’s hers. She feels right…whole. Like it’s who she was all along, but didn’t know it until now.

“I’m special,” she whispers.

It’s nothing she’s never heard before. Lucy and Maria and a long time ago, strangers on the street have told her so. But there’ve been times, quiet times when she’s by herself, when she doubts. When sometimes she thinks that maybe…maybe…

She’ll never think like that again. Never.

“I’m special,” she says again. “Yeah.”

And one day, maybe not today or tomorrow or next year, but one day everyone else will know it too.

Thinking about it almost makes Diamond want to go and do something stupid like cry, but of course she doesn’t. The filly lifts her head high. Diamonds are hard. They’re the hardest things on earth. Unscratchable. Unbreakable.

Diamond Tiara wipes her eye. The bright flashlight in the mirror is making her eyes water. As she turns to adjust it, she sees something weird.

There’s something on her flank. It looks kind of like a tattoo. A blue five-point tiara, just like the one on her head. There’s one on her other side, too. “The heck?”

Downstairs, Lucy’s voice snaps the filly back to reality. “Diamond Tiara?” Her voice sounds tense.

On instinct, Diamond shouts down, “I didn’t do it!”

“Diamond, can you come down, please? Somebody… somebody’s here to see you.”


June, 2009


Lucy comes home at six. A little earlier than she expected, but there’s a game tonight and traffic would have been murder if she’d waited any longer to come home. Besides, she can get an early start on dinner this way.

The afternoon rain’s cleared up, but the blanket of thick clouds stuck behind. When she opens the door, the house is dark. The click of Lucy’s heels echo through the house as shadows stretch across the hardwood floor.

Upstairs, a hallway light is on. Diamond’s room is open and dark. So either she fell asleep watching TV again, or she’s getting into trouble, and probably making a mess while doing it.

Lucy should say something. Go confront the pony, maybe get her to help clean up the mess. Not do the whole thing, just help. Easier said than done. Lucy never knows what to say. Everything sounds wrong, comes out wrong, or doesn’t come out at all. Di’s never happy anymore and everything Lucy does just seems to make it worse.

So she stays downstairs and doesn’t say anything at all.

Lucy flops on the couch and flips on the television. MTV’s in the middle of another marathon of 16 and Pregnant. A blonde girl is sulking because her boyfriend never sticks around to take care of the baby. Lucy flips the channel. She flies by about thirty channels (all reality shows, infomercials, newsroom talking heads, and more reality shows) until she settles on TMZ.

The hosts fire cheap shots and trade quips about the baby weight Whatsername still hasn’t lost even though it’s been a whole four months since she’s had the kid. Really let herself go. Meanwhile, another power couple is breaking up. Another may or may not be getting back together. Same old same old.

Lucy glances at the light spilling from the hallway again. Diamond’s awfully quiet up there. An old adage of Maria’s comes to mind: If they’re quiet, they're either in trouble or getting into trouble. Better investigate. While she’s up there, she can ask what the filly wants for dinner. Lucy’s thinking they can share a nice salad or maybe order some Indian food. Diamond loves Indian food.

As she sits up, there’s a knock on the door. Lucy glances at her phone. It’s nearly seven. Too late in the day for deliverymen and this gated community doesn’t allow solicitors. Anyone coming by would have called first.

She can’t see anybody through the peephole and there’s no car in the driveway besides her own. Nothing by the sidewalk, either. Maybe the neighborhood kids are playing ding dong ditch?

Another knock.

After a moment’s thought, Lucy opens the door a crack. Her breath catches in her throat.

Two ponies stand on her welcome mat. Big eyes and little noses, just like her own Diamond Tiara, but bigger.

One of them is a unicorn, all purple except the bright pink streaks running through her straight mane and tail and weird marks on her haunches. She meets Lucy’s eye and smiles. The existence of other candy colored ponies (much less a freaking unicorn) should probably be shocking, but it’s not.

It’s the normal looking one that bothers her. At a glance, the stallion actually doesn’t look that much different than a regular pony. His coat is a respectable shade of tan, the mane gunmetal grey. It looks like the mane was slicked back with mousse earlier, but time or the rain have washed it out. He’s wearing a little suit and tie.

Lucy can’t stop staring at him.

He stares back, unblinking. His baggy eyes are faintly sunken in and serious. He smiles politely, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. Eyes the same ice blue as Diamond Tiara’s.

“Um.” Lucy blinks dumbly at them. “Can I help you?”

“Hello, there!” the unicorn chirps. “My name is Twilight Sparkle and this is Mr. Filthy Rich.”

Mr. Rich nods politely, but from the way he holds himself, Lucy can’t help feeling that he’s liable to go Liam Neeson on the place any moment. When was the last time this guy slept?

“Evening,” he says. A southern drawl lurks somewhere in the stallion’s voice.

“Lucille Burdock…of the North Carolina Burdocks.” The signification is automatic, but silly. Not many North Carolina Burdocks are left anymore.

“Sorry to disturb you so late,” says the one called Twilight Sparkle. “I know talking ponies might seem a little surprising, but we just have a few simple questions to ask you.”

The stallion shoulders her to the side. “Have you seen this pony?” He holds in his hoof (somehow) a photograph. It’s of a little pink foal chewing a fluffy rabbit toy. Little wisps of lavender and white curl around her ears. The eyes are weirdly beady, but there’s no mistaking them.

The fierce, biting twist in Lucy’s gut drives her to slam the door in their faces and put the house on lockdown. But she can’t move. She still can’t stop staring at those eyes.

“Uh. Why do you ask?”

Mr. Rich’s hoof is in the doorway. His eye hasn’t left hers either. “She’s my daughter. Have you seen her?”

Lucy’s left hand fidgets, playing with all the little charms on her bracelet. The evening breeze rolls through the door, rustling the stack of magazines on the coffee table. She rubs the golden horseshoe with her thumb.

“…Yeah. Yeah, I have.”

Filthy Rich is through the door before she’s finished with the sentence.

“Just come on in. Sorry about the mess, our maid is out this week.”

Twilight Sparkle smiles politely and follows. “Thank you, Lucy.”

“No problem.” While the rest of Lucy struggles to catch up after that bombshell, her conversation skills boot up on instinct. “Soooo, where you from? I don’t know if you noticed, but we don’t get a lot of talking ponies around here.”

Filthy Rich hums as he glances from wall to wall, taking in the house layout, the magazines and DVD cases on the tables, the pony-sized recliner near the TV, and the Burdock family portraits that stretch from Lucy to her great-great-great-grandfather.

“We come from a land called Equestria. I must say, when Mr. Rich requested my help with the famous Diamond Dazzle case, I never thought the search would lead us to a whole other world.” Twilight looks around as well, though with a bit more candor. “As we approached, I saw the rain stop and clouds move all on their own. Why, there doesn’t seem to be any magic here at all, to say nothing of the biophysical makeup of—”

“Miss Sparkle.” Filthy Rich fixes her with a harsh look. “Please.”

“Oh! Sorry, sorry.” The unicorn brushes out of the way. “You go ahead.”

Mr. Rich adjusts his lapels. “It happened six years ago. We were touring statues decorating the famous Canterlot Gardens. A quarter past noon, we observed a great flash of light and were overcome in a snap of wild magic—flux in chaotic magical properties, they called it—bowled us over.” He speaks evenly, slowly. Like he’s given this speech a lot. “When I got to my hooves, Diamond Dazzle was nowhere to be seen. I haven’t stopped searching in six years.”

Lucy stares as splashes of mute celebrity drama roll by on the television. “We’ve been calling her Diamond Tiara.”

And just like that, it all comes out. Once Lucy starts talking, she can’t stop. She doesn’t want to think about what’ll happen when she does, so until that time she fills the void with words.

About how Brian found Diamond in the rain, hiding in a cardboard box between a Tiffany’s and Morton’s Steakhouse. How Diamond was Lucy’s birthday present and has lived here for six years. The shock when she started talking. The time Diamond came down with the flu, how she loves getting her mane brushed, and how her singing voice is absolutely perfect. About how smart she is, and how decisive.

It should be a weight off her shoulders to finally tell someone this. Every word weighs a thousand pounds. It’s in the middle of describing how Diamond hates alfalfa but loves myrtle and butterfly squash that Lucy realizes she’s stopped telling anecdotes and started listing facts. She also realizes it’s because she doesn’t have many anecdotes to tell.

Finally, she asks, “Would you like me to call her down?”

“Yes.” Filthy Rich’s voice cracks. Eyes the color of Diamond’s shine in the lamps’ light. “Yes, please.”

“Diamond Tiara!”

A second later, a shrill voice pipes, “I didn’t do it!”

Lucy can’t help but smile at that. So she was getting into trouble. “Diamond, can you come down, please? Somebody…” She glances at the ponies and sighs. “Somebody’s here to see you.”

The filly appears at the top of the stairs, peering down curiously. The little plastic crown from the senior prom sparkles between her ears as she looks from Lucy to the ponies to Lucy again.

“Come down and say hi, sweetie.” Lucy hasn’t called Diamond sweetie since she rode in her purse.

“Oh. Hi.” Diamond frowns, as if not sure what emotion she ought to display. She’s never introduced herself to anybody before. Slowly, she makes her way downstairs, pausing on the bottom step as Mr. Rich approaches. “Who’re you?”

The stallion kneels. “Hello, Diamond Tiara. My name’s Filthy Rich” The coldness in his eyes melts and a little smile curls across his muzzle. More of that suppressed southern accent creeps into his voice. “I’m your daddy.”

For a while, the filly doesn’t know what to say. Finally, she decides on, “And you’re a pony.” Diamond glances at Twilight Sparkle, who’s politely stepped away to investigate the Edward Hopper paintings in the other room. “I didn’t know there were other ponies.”

“Of course. There’s a whole ‘nother world of other ponies, darlin’. All sorts in all kinds of colors.”

“Huh. Do they live in mansions, too?”

Mr. Rich laughs. A few minutes ago, Lucy never would have thought that was possible. “My family does, but ponies live in all sorts of places. Cottages, apartments… some live in the clouds and some others live in big fancy castles. I actually lived in a boarding school a couple years before—”

“A school?” Diamond’s ears perk up. “Did you have a prom?”

“Not exactly, but the interesting thing…”

The ponies fade into the background as Lucy thumbs through Facebook updates on her phone.

Bethany’s excited about her wedding dress.

The new Chanel bags look good this season.

Don’t think about it.

Geez, look what a mess Lindsay Lohan’s become.

Safe behind the Facebook wall.

What type of cloud is YOUR personality? Take the quiz to find out!

Don’t listen. Don’t dwell.

LOL look at this kid all messed up after the dentist.

Don’t think about it.

But every fortress has a weak spot.

“Okay,” says Diamond Tiara, a million miles away. “But if you’re my daddy, then who’s…”

Lucy looks up. The filly’s staring back at her.

“Ohmygod...”

All at once, it hits her: every smile, every tantrum, every sulking stomp and anxious gallop. Every single “Can I come too?” and “Look what I made” and “When will you be back?”. In every laugh, every groan, every hiccup, Lucy sees—truly sees for the first time—the beautiful, looming, terrifying truth she’s evaded for five years.

This is not a pony. This is a child.

And her “mother” hasn’t been a very good one.

Diamond Tiara, meanwhile, has moved on to other subjects. “You’ll really like living here, Daddy!” She beams ear to ear. “I think you should have the room next to mine. It used to be a game room, but we can move it somewhere else. You’ll like it. It’s got a great sunset view.”

Filthy Rich blinks, surprised. “Er, Diamond…”

“Yeah?”

The stallion exchanges a look with Lucy. A long look.

Lucy nods. She rubs her arms as she comes closer. Her skirt wrinkles into a wide yellow puddle as she sits with the excited filly.

“Then again, maybe the room by the terrace would be better? A bigger room for a bigger pony makes sense, and the paint job will go really nice with that coat.” She taps her chin and hums. “What do you think, Lucy? Terrace or game room?”

“I don’t think those will work, princess.”

“Sure it will.” Diamond’s ears twitch. She’s not sure what’s going on yet, but she knows Lucy’s not just talking about rooms. “We’ve got plenty of space and everything. I know he's bigger, but I bet he doesn’t eat that much. Lucy, come on! He’s my daddy. I should be with him. Right?”

“It’s not that, Di. And you’re right.” She puts a gentle hand on the filly’s shoulder and takes a deep breath. “Diamond, listen. I think you should go with your daddy, instead. To Equestria.”

“Oh…but…you’re coming too, right?”

For a moment, Lucy considers it. But she knows already it’s not going to happen.

She runs through a list of things to soften the blow or dodge the question. Maybes, kind-ofs, possiblys, we’ll-sees… excuses. Lots of little ways to sidestep the issue by giving Diamond what she wants. But not what she needs.

“No. I’m sorry, Di. I’m not coming.”

Diamond Tiara takes a step back. “I…” Her eyes grow big and watery as realization sinks in. Her lip trembles. With dawning conviction, she whispers, “…You don’t like me anymore.”

“Oh, Diamond—”

“No!” The filly jerks away from Lucy’s hand. She’s shaking. Her eyes burn with fury as the first tear falls. “Don’t lie to me, I’m not stupid! Well, y-you know wh-what? Fine! I don’t like you either! I hate this stupid, boring house, anyway.” Diamond pinches her eyes shut and sniffs. “Who needs you?!”

Not you. Lucy can feel the other ponies’ eyes on her. She doesn’t dare look. It’s hard to breathe through her nose. Hard to breathe. Something wet and oily runs down her face.

“I’m gonna go home…” Diamond Tiara’s voice fractures, then shatters. “I-I’m gonna go home with my daddy who loves me. A-and I’ll have a pool and I’ll go shopping and to the movies and I’m gonna go to a big school with lots of ponies and EVERYONE will want to be my friend! Everyone! Just you watch!”

“Glad to hear that. Good for you, Di.” Lucy wipes her eyes. Her chest is tight. The lump in her throat strangles her voice into a whisper. “Good for you.”

For a time, a very long time, the only sound is the heavy breathing of a filly trying not to cry.

And then in a small voice Diamond says, “So…I guess you want this back.”

As the little pony reaches for the rhinestone tiara, Lucy shakes her head. “No, you keep it. It’s a good look for you.”


Lucy doesn’t watch them leave but knows when they’re gone. She hides her face in her hands and listens to the echo of an empty house.

It’s half past eight when she wipes the mascara off her face, turns off the television, and goes upstairs, through the hall, and to the right to Diamond’s room.

The springs of the queen-size bed squeak under Lucy’s weight. She takes in the shelves of expensive toys, the racks of designer clothes, and the line of heart-shaped jewelry boxes along the dresser. She thinks of the dusty Lexus downstairs.

It’s not enough. Diamond Tiara deserves more.