The following is a collection of writings created by Applejack that was found shortly after her disappearance. While no dates are given in the original journal, we have added a number to each entry for a better reading experience. No information was changed or edited.
-Editors
[[Begin reading.]]
1. Applebloom is missing.
2. It's only been a few days, and it has already felt like centuries. Each day goes by and I have to keep up my standard routine while also trying to keep a fleeting sense of hope that they'll find her. Every moment has the same sense of control as a house fly stuck in a cheap dollar store flytrap. There's nothing I could do to help, even though I'm sure the officers sent on lookout for her are barely trying. Ponyville is a small town, she couldn't have gone far, right? I couldn't have lost her, right? I didn't lose one of the only things that motivate me to be a better person and keep moving on, right? That's what I tell myself. They've looked in the forest and in every nearby city and they've come up with nothing. Applebloom's friends have been interrogated too many times to count. Don't those officers know those two girls know just as much as we do? That they're just as afraid of what could have happened to her as we are? My mind is rampant with questions and all of them are without answer.
3. All of my tasks have become grueling ever since she went missing. My friends try to cheer me up. How could they ever make me feel better? I certainly do care about them, a whole damn lot, but the life of a guide is worthless without somepony who needs your guidance. I remember when I would help her get ready for school, pack her lunch, give her a kiss on the forehead, and pray to whatever higher being that would listen that she would make it out alright in life. Looking back on it now maybe I was too expectant of her, wished too much from her, tried to make her fly with wax wings. Maybe thats why she's missing, because of my expectations for someone who was still trying to find her own place in her own life, a life I was trying to dictate as if it were mine. I tried to mold her into a puppet of myself where I had full control over every string. Maybe it's all my fault.
4 pages are missing.
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8. I've stopped talking to them. All of them. ]
If I'm to blame, which has been surely proven, why make them all bear with my existance when I'm the one who needs to bear the weight of ruining another persons life? I've made her die. I made her dissolve into nothing through my hopes and dreams that she'd do the opposite, and now I am nothing but a shell of my former self. I want to get better. I asure myself of that, at least. But is it truly possible? What could I possibly do to make up for such a horrible, such a preventable mistake? I've locked myself inside my room. I have no outside influences to try to twist and contort my own thoughts into something unrecognizable. I can only trust myself in this situation, they all lie to my own face. I know what I’ve done wrong. To try to convince myself that I had nothing to do with her disappearance is a complete mockery of this entire situation. Fluttershy has tried the most out of anypony to try to contact me and make me feel better about myself. She’s convinced that I haven’t done anything wrong, that I’m an innocent victim to a circumstance just beyond my grasp of control, but what does she know? What does anypony know? What do I know? Maybe it isn’t my fault. Who am I kidding, of course it is. Fluttershy has sent me multiple letters trying to convince me that I have the ability to return to how I was before I did this. She tells me that she misses me, and would like to see me again. I don’t trust her. Why would she want to see me? She knows as well as I do that this is my fault. There must be a reason why she wants to see me. To rip me away from the only space where I am truly alone, and get something out of me. Maybe send me to prison for my sins. Maybe she’s in the right, because I know damn well I’m not. I’ve locked my door with as many locks as I could figure out how to attach and I haven’t touched them since I installed them. She can’t get to me. I can’t let her hurt me.
9. I miss her. I miss everything. I miss how life used to be before this whole disaster ruined my entire life and all of my relationships. I wish I could see them all again but I know every little thing they would all do to me if they had the chance. I want to be able to do something. Anything, really, other than write in this journal. This is the only thing that allows me to vent my emotions that isn’t the air around me as I scream and claw at the walls to try to find an answer to questions that I never wanted to ask in the first place. Concealing myself within the thin 4 walls of my own bedroom have made me come to the realization that I really don’t have any hobbies of my own. My lifestyle ever since I was young was comprised entirely of work, focusing on the family business, and never trying to look out for myself or try to improve myself.