Diane’s Letter: The Last Piece of Pie

by TheCrimsonDM

First published

Dear Riddle Port, if you are reading this it means one of two things. Either you are sneaking through my private stuff, in which case I suggest that you stop now. Or I am missing.

Dear Riddle Port, if you are reading this it means one of two things. Either you are sneaking through my private stuff, in which case I suggest that you stop now. Or I am missing.




Lots of thanks to Crowscrowcrow, for all the help with this story.

The Letter

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Diane’s Letter: The Last Piece of Pie

Written by TheCrimsonDM

Dear Riddle Port, if you are reading this it means one of two things. Either you are sneaking through my private stuff, in which case I suggest that you stop now. Or I am missing.

Now if I am gone, it might look like I simply vanished, but I assure you that’s most likely not the case. There’s a good chance that I’m actually dead, and that means I need to tell you a few things about myself, things that you never knew. This will hopefully explain why I’m gone, and why I was always a bit strange.

I know how hard this must be for you, especially considering the fact that I’m talking to you from… the past. I actually had to stop writing this just to give you a hug, you gave me the oddest look.

By now you might have met another pony named Pinkie Pie, who bears a striking resemblance to me, we have the same color fur, mane, and even the same cutie mark. The only real difference is that I keep my mane straight, mostly because I hate curly hair.

You probably saw her hanging out with a group of mares, they might even have been asking questions about me. I’m sorry if you got me and Pinkie confused.

Since you knew me personally then you probably know just how much I hated social situations, so a balloon cutie mark seems weird. I told ponies it was because I was good at making things out of balloons, which to be fair, I was, but that wasn’t the real reason.

I had led a short life, mostly running from town to town, changing my name, personality traits, and even changing my appearance as best I could. Unfortunately mane dye never worked, this thing is like a sponge, it was difficult just trying to keep my mane straight. Now you’re probably curious as to why I did this, what was I running from you ask? Well, it’s complicated, but, simply put, I was running from a psychotic murderous unicorn.

I was born in a place called Ponyville, and despite my appearance or what I may have told you my age was. I am, as of writing this, only a year old. Don't worry, i'm sure the judge will believe you if you said I looked eightteen. My mother was actually the pony that I look like, Pinkie Pie. I was born in the life waters of something called the Mirror Pool. I once had a lot of sisters, but after a while they… well, they were all murdered.

You see, we were all a little uncontrollable when we were first born, but what else could you expect from essentially newborn children. I mean Tartarus, we didn’t even understand what the word death meant. I was one of the smarter ones and noticed pretty quickly when my sisters were being corralled into the town hall. At first I hid, but after a while I went to check out what was going on. By the time I got there the doors were already locked, but I decided to sneak a peek inside the building. I had to climb up a tree to do so, and when I did saw them all staring at a paint covered wall. I accidentally disturbed a bird's nest and the little guy hopped away from me. One of my sisters looked up at the bird, and exploded! Red beams of death flew from the unicorn’s horn, each time one would strike one of my siblings, like a balloon filled with too much air, they would pop. I ran, I didn’t think about where I was going, or what I would do, I took off as quickly as my hooves would take me.

As i was escaping I found one of my sisters, by some miracle they had missed her. So we stuck together… at least until Rainbow Dash caught up to us. She and I hid inside some bushes, hoping that Rainbow would pass by us, only Rainbow didn’t leave. After a while my sister looked at me, she knew that it was a death sentence waiting for her out there but she braved up and told me to stay hidden until the coast was clear.

Maybe we only lived for a few hours but we had personalities, we had life. Granted, most of us were so similar to each other that it was impossible to tell us apart, but to each other we all knew who we were.

My sister, the one who came with me, was the most caring out of all of us. During the short time we had together, she did her best to care for us. She may not have been good at it, but she tried her best.

And she stepped out of the bushes getting Rainbow Dash’s attention. I heard her crying and begging to be spared as she was dragged off by Rainbow Dash. My sister had known that Rainbow Dash was bringing her to our murderer when she stepped out of the bushes, but she gave me the chance at escaping, the chance to live.

It took a long time for me to recover even a little from what happened at Ponyville. I stayed at a town full of ponies that bore striking resemblances to ponies in Ponyville. Appleloosa, the town of pony look a likes. I was safe there during my recovery. That place is also where I started to grow as an individual even more. I soon began developing traits unique to me. Such as my love for coffee. I also began to dislike things that my mother was in love with, such as parties and sweets.

By the time I was through with Appleloosa I had become a completely unique individual and had my own goals in life. I wanted to live in the big city, to find work as a writer. So I moved to the lovely city of Manehattan. The best part about Manehattan was that neither Twilight nor her friends had ever visited there.

I lived in Manehattan peacefully for the longest time, I even made a couple of close friends. I got a job as a receptionist for a business pony, and even began to collect plush animals. If you remember my room than you know exactly how much love I put into my collection. I even learned how to cook a wonderful casserole; hopefully you will find my recipe next to this letter, I know how much you wanted it.

I can’t deny that my life was short, but it was also really good. If you’re reading this then I have to let you know just how much I truly appreciated your friendship. I was so alone after my family all died, leaving me to be the last pony in what could have been a great legacy. I have spent many nights simply wondering about what could have been. We could have made a town just me and my sisters, or maybe sent one or two of us to every town across Equestria.

I digress. My ink is running short and I need to finish this letter. You know, it’s so odd to write a letter in which you’re already dead… I don’t know how to feel about it. Maybe I should be feeling surreal?

Anyways, you probably guessed who my killer will be is by the overall message of this letter... I just want to let you know, that I didn’t fight back. When she finds found me I simply gave up and allowed my ending to pass peacefully. Please don’t harbor any anger towards my killer, I’ve been running for so long now, and I always knew that if I got caught, there would be no chance of returning to a normal life. Fighting would be useless against her.

I know it’s hard, and it’s not going to get any easier any time soon. I’m sorry that you had to be put through this, but I will always value the friendship we shared. Good bye, Riddle Port. I hope things work out for you.

I hate to ask this of you, but there is however one last thing I need you to do for me. There is a pony that needs to know about me, and how I lived my life. It would help rest in peace if they knew about all of this.

I need you to forward this letter to-

Pinkie Pie set the letter down. Her tired red eyes strained to properly see the room around her, the kitchen felt lonely, dark and oppressive. The wet fur on her cheeks was becoming cold. She sniffled.

A pot of coffee was sitting on the table. The cup on the table besides had long since turned cold. She looked down at the letter once more, and cringed. She’d already read it five times, but despite how many times she re-read it, the words didn’t change, the story was always the same.

“Well,” She said to herself. “What am I supposed to do now?”