Thursday, January 17th, 1003 A.B.

The time is 3:05 in the morning. The past day has been a host to stampedes, a mob forming at my doorstep, property damage, and bizarre occult happenings. Put simply, it was another normal day in Ponyville.

Aside from the today’s odd occurrences, I have managed to complete a good bulk of the thauma-neurological and chemical tests I set out for in the past week. Unfortunately, the results I’ve compiled, as of yet, remain inconclusive. For instance, through the use of theurgic-generated axial tomography, I found an unusually high level of magic dispersion occurring in my corpus callosum. This is usually paralleled by a lower dopamine receptor count, but when I made the use of the radioligand benzamide, I discovered that I instead had an unusually high receptor count. Other results have also proven to not follow any scientifically recognized pattern, some even contradict ones performed right before them!

It goes without saying that I had to perform many of the tests over again to make certain their results. As such, yesterday morning I found myself running low on many of the chemicals and components needed to perform the tests, and also nearly out of food as well. It is for these reasons, and that I hadn’t taken a single step out of the library for the past week, and knowing how quickly rumors fester in Ponyville when one doesn’t leave their abode every few days, that I went to the market the previous day. And in doing so, landing myself right into the thicket of another casebook Ponyville calamity.

It is not for that reason alone, but also because I was struck by another macabre hallucination today, that I am writing today’s occurrences down. The vision that occurred earlier today had a bizarre, yet still frightening, aberration from my current mental malady. The vile hallucination still featured a pony dieing in a cruel fashion, but it is the manner in which it concluded that has me shaken to my very foundation.

*****

My day began at 7 a.m. when I woke up and began preparing for the day’s excursion into Ponyville. Spike and I left at 8:30 and quickly finished our shopping for supplies. Once we had finished that, I would have been content to spend the rest of the day in the library and complete some more tests, but, partially due to Spike’s prodding, and that is was such a nice day outside, I decided that we could use some time out and about Ponyville.

After spending some time enjoying the park, Spike and I headed into downtown Ponyville and went to “The Clover Cafe” for lunch and a spot to relax. After enjoying a nice snack of honeysuckles, I decided to pass the time practicing an apple-to-orange novelty spell I had read about a few weeks before. When I began, the spell was a simple way to entertain myself, but once I discovered the concealed difficulty of turning a pomaceous fruit into a citrus fruit, I put forth full effort into my attempts to do so. I am sure that I would have succeeded soon after I had started if it had not been for Pinkie Pie violently tackling (or as she chose to call it, “hugging”) me and throwing my aim off, making my stray shot hit an unfortunate bird (and simultaneously allowing me to discover that it is easier to transform a living creature into an orange than it is another fruit).

After watching my energetic friend have what appeared to be a minor breakdown, I resumed my efforts in completing the spell, before once again being interrupted by the pink mare an hour later (and accidentally turning another unfortunate animal into a fruit). Once Pinkie had rushed off to who knows where once again, I continued attempting to perform the spell for the next hour. Without meeting much results, I vowed to successfully cast it one day, and walked back to the library with Spike. For the next hour or so we spent the time taking stock of and reorganizing the library, until we were interrupted by sounds of shouting coming from the street outside.

I cannot lie and say that when I opened the library doors and was greeted by the sight of an angry mob, I didn’t fear that they had come for me. I feared that Applejack had been pressed for information by somepony, and had revealed the contents of our conversation last week, and, the townsponies, learning what depraved thoughts flitted about my mind, had come to chase me out of Ponyville. But as I gave the crowd in front of my door closer scrutiny and saw that none had brought any torches, pitchforks, or other angered mob paraphernalia, I remembered that Applejack, the most trustworthy pony in Ponyville, had given me her word for secrecy, and that even if somepony had managed to get her to reveal any information, she barely knew anything herself. My worries calmed, I addressed the crowd, and soon learned that the town was under a figurative siege of Pinkie Pie doppelgangers.

I retreated back into the library, and soon discovered the cause of the flood of energetic bakers to be an ancient ritual spring now known by the name, the “Mirror Pool.” Apparently, Pinkie had used its magical properties to create a small army of herself, though, for what reasons, I hadn’t the slightest clue. Unfortunately, while I had discovered the source and the solution to Ponyville’s newest problem, it did not provide a way to determine the true Pinkie from her doubles. The text ended, warning that, if the caster of the return spell was not careful, they could accidently send the actual pony back with the rest.

Returning to the mob at my doorstep, I ordered them to spread out across Ponyville and search for the original Pinkie. Once they were dismissed, I began my own hunt for my multiplied friend. While spending a fruitless amount of time wandering Ponyville in search of the real Pinkie, I encountered an oddly-out of character pink doppelganger. After giving me a short, and rather depressing, rant on her existential crisis, the mare gave me an idea on how to determine which member of the pink horde was truly my friend.

*****

While Rainbow Dash and the Apple family were busy with the task of rounding up and bringing all of the Pinkies to Town Hall, the rest of the Element bearers set up a test specially designed to isolate the true energetic mare we all know and love from her duplicates. I won’t go into any details about the test, but it should suffice to say that it was as carefully tailored as one of Rarity’s dresses. As many hooves make light work, the three of us - Rarity, Fluttershy, and I - were left to twiddle our hooves while we waited for Dash, Applejack, and company to arrive. While leaning against the wall of the stage, I was struck by the memory of DJ PON-3 begging me to save her from her impending doom. With nothing else to occupy my time with, I began to interpret the vision that had occurred over a week back, using some psychoanalysis techniques that I had studied about in order to glean any information I may have missed.

“A good memory, Twilight?” My friend, Fluttershy, whispered from beside me. Though her tone of voice was hushed, the quiet pegasus still managed to shock me out of my recollection when she spoke.

“Huh?” Interrupted, I lost whatever progress I had been making in interpreting the gruesome vision, and was unable to form a more eloquent response to her question.

“Oh,” she paused, hoofing the floor before continuing, “I noticed you had your eyes closed, and that you were smiling a little, so I assumed that you were revisiting a good memory. Sorry for interrupting you,” the shy mare quickly added , hiding her head behind her mane slightly.

“I… what?” I was at a loss for words, ‘I was smiling as I thought about an injured mare begging me for her life? As if it was a fond memory instead of the horrible nightmare it actually was?’ I thought as I started to lift myself from the ground, still in a slight stupor at what I had been doing.

“No, it’s okay,” Fluttershy protested, backing up from me. “You can sit back down, I won’t bother-”

Suddenly, we heard a loud stampeding sound coming from outside, and all at once, the Town Hall’s doors were flung wide as a flood of pink manes and hooves surged inside. Once I had managed to get the crowd of Pinkies under control, I introduced the test, and soon enough, their numbers rapidly dwindled until there was only one left. The remaining Pinkie wholeheartedly professed how she wouldn’t allow herself to leave her friends behind, and explained the reason as to why the whole fiasco had begun in the first place, leaving the five of us without a doubt that she was the true friend we all knew and loved.

*****

Once the troublesome occurrence had ended, I inquired Pinkie as to where the Mirror Pool laid, with the intention to prevent any other disasters like today’s from repeating. Acquisitioning a large boulder from Tom’s Rock Emporium, Pinkie and I enlisted the help of Applejack’s older brother, Macintosh, in transporting it to where the root of all today’s problems lied, deep in the Everfree Forest.

*****

Our expedition into the gloomy forest began well enough, with Pinkie leading the way as Macintosh and I followed behind, carrying the boulder. Him, on his broad back, and I, using my magic to lighten his load. Pinkie rambled on about this and that as she hopped along, the muscular farmer and I following silently after her, not feeling the need to make comment in her one-sided conversation. Walking next to the muscled earth pony, I cannot say that I am the only mare in Ponyville (Applejack being an obvious exclusion, as he is her brother) who has found the quiet stallion to be rather appealing to the eye, but I must admit that I find his presence even more enjoyable. He has this sort of air around him that leaves one content to be encompassed in the quietness that accompanies his presence; it is a peaceful silence that I have found him to exude in any situation, and it leaves one relaxed and with a warm contentedness inside them. I was happy enough just to walk alongside him and enjoy that peace as we ambled slowly after Pinkie Pie.

Unfortunately, that blissful peacefulness was all too short, for soon I felt the gnawing teeth of the Itch set upon my spine. My legs began to tremble as it slowly spread across my spine. I grew more and more panicked as I felt it scraping at the base of my neck with its foul claws. I wanted to turn around and run out of the forest, giving some weak excuse as to why I had to leave. Something, anything that would have gotten me away from having to watch two ponies I held in high esteem, and in Pinkie’s case, close to my heart, die brutally as I stood by and enjoyed their pain. But, I couldn’t do so, for if I were to leave right then, I would’ve left Macintosh to carry the boulder by himself, a feat that even he, with his sheer strength, wouldn’t be able to manage. I was trapped along that faint dirt path as the chances of watching my friends die grew higher alongside the magnitude of the horrible ravaging that scoured its way across my spine. Even though I knew their death would be imaginary, I still feared it all the same, and hated how unable I felt to stop its ever-gnashing fangs.

Though my mind and body were assaulted with the respective attacks of helplessness and physical rawness, I somehow managed to maintain a far more cheerful outward disposition. The last thing that I needed was for more ponies to know about my mental condition, as one Ponyville denizen already had vague knowledge about it, and even though she was sworn to secrecy, the less ponies I had to worry about, the better.

Nonetheless, by the time the three of us had reached the entrance to the Mirror Pool, I was near-dizzy from the intensity of the Itch. It is anypony’s guess to how I managed to maintain my control over the magic I was applying on the boulder when Macintosh finally set it on the ground next to him. I dispersed my magic as Pinkie hopped the circumference of the steep opening as energetically as always, while Macintosh and I opted to slump down to the ground wearily and gasp for air.

“Here we are, ladies and gentlecolts! The amazing Mirror Pool!” She yelled with all the enthusiasm of a door-to-door salespony, jumping up and down in front of me.

“Very… nice… Pinkie,” I managed to get out as I breathed labored breaths. “Now… I hate to leave… but I really … must be going,” I finished, starting to climb to my hooves.

“No wait!” She objected, yanking me up off the ground, “we need to go check and make sure none of those other Pinkies escaped!”

“Pinkie,” I began, “that’s not possi-”

“Macky! You wait here for Twilight and I to get back!” The pink party-planner interjected, dismissing the muscular apple farmer as she pulled me closer to the darkened maw of the Mirror Pool.

“Pinkie! Wai-” I shouted as she threw us both into the darkness below.

How we managed to not horribly injure ourselves in that terrible plummet is a mystery to me. The next few harrowing seconds we spent in the pitch-blackness, bumping and falling ever deeper, were far too long, and when we finally tumbled to a halt, I swore to fight with all my might the next time Pinkie tried to pull me into a dark hole in the ground. As I got up and surveyed the area around me, any complaints I might have voiced to the mare next to me were forgotten. I had landed in what appeared to be a naturally formed cave, hosting a vast diversity of stalactites, stalagmites, speleothems, and so much more! And these amazing formations were beautifully illuminated by the eerie light of great patches of bioluminescent plants I had never seen or even read about before!

I was enraptured as I began to wander about the subterranean area, marvelling at the plentitude of natural beauty that surrounded me. As I enjoyed the appearance of a particularly magnificent formation, my cognizance of the Itch returned to me all too soon, and I felt its ravenous teeth tear at my muscles and flesh with an intensity that nearly brought me to my knees. Remembering why I was so desperate to escape in the first place, I was about to attempt to teleport out of the cave when Pinkie’s voice called out to me:

“Hey Twilight! Come here for a sec!”

I turned around, and saw her staring into a small body of water that lied in the middle of the enchanting cave. Trotting up to what I assumed to be the center of all of today’s problems - the Mirror Pool - I barely managed to force a question out of my trembling lips, “y-yes? What is it Pinkie?”

“See if you can spot anything weird in there,” she responded, oddly calm, pointing into the murky depths as I stopped beside her.

“Sure, g-give me a second,” I replied as she stepped back, giving me room to examine the enchanted waters with close scrutiny.

I couldn’t find any trace of a replicated pink pony in those still waters, only finding my own reflection; a bedraggled pony who looked like she was barely holding herself together. Her mane, though mostly well-kempt, had a few stray hairs sticking out here and there, belying the persistent anxiousness the pony suffered day in and day out. Though she tried to hide it with makeup, I could tell she had bags under her eyes. It was obvious that she hadn’t slept well in a long while, and she certainly hadn’t had enough when she did sleep. Kept awake late every night by macabre memories that weren’t even true, she rarely got four hours of sleep if lucky. It wasn’t like her dreams added to her tormented as well, - no, she never seemed to dream about those vile imaginations - she would know if she did, she doubts she would forget such nightmares so easily. What was worse, though, were her eyes. They looked pained, like a caged animal’s, like she had seen too much of something vile, but they were also filled with fear; a fear that if the pain were ever to come into the light, she would lose everypony she had ever loved.

That mare shares my fear, the fear that if the true nature of the visions were to come about, my friends and my family would turn away from me, disgusted by the foul situations that have inhabited my mind. I can’t allow them to realize what was afflicting my mind. I must solve this on my own. I must.

“Hey, Twilight…” Pinkie’s voice sounded out, its haunting tone interrupting me from my somber thoughts.

Turning to her, I began to ask, “yes, Pinkie? What is i-”

I was cut off as hooves slammed into my side, sending me flying into the Mirror Pool. I plunged into the once-calm waters, and was immediately assaulted by their freezing temperatures. Frozen needles stabbed into my hide as I tried to swim towards the blue-greenish light coming from above, but I found myself only sinking lower into the dark depths. I wanted to scream out in terror when I found that no matter how hard I thrashed my limbs, I couldn’t break the surface, but I somehow managed to restrain myself from doing so, if only barely.

Moving my limbs became harder and harder to accomplish as I sunk into the darkened depths of the pool, and the frozen needles sank deeper into my skin, piercing my strained muscles. Soon, I was unable to continue struggling, and the waters began to return to their previously calm state, and I could make out Pinkie looking into the pool at me. The face I saw was foreign to me, for my beloved friend now looked at me with a cruel mirth - or disgust, I couldn’t tell which, the water rippled too much - as I slowly drowned below her. Her blue eyes no longer held the warmth of a Summer sky, but of a frozen winter, promising nothing but ice and starvation. Her mouth was twisted in a grimace as she spoke to me, but I was unable to hear, or determine, what she was saying; I was too deep down in the ice-cold water to understand her.

The needles had now thoroughly perforated my muscles, leaving them chilled tatters through which the frigid waters poured into, turning my bones and organs to ice. The light seemed so far away now, as I sank deeper into the freezing pool, barely a glimmer of light in the dark to focus my iced-over eyeballs on. My thoughts slowed down as the darkness seeped into my hooves, and then, my legs, working their way up my spine, snuffing the inflamed teeth of the Itch with their frozen needles. The dark, freezing needles pierced my stomach, bloating me with an empty coldness; my heart, filling my veins with their icy chill; my eyes, extinguishing whatever was left of that far-away light, leaving me to sink in darkness. Then I felt the cold darkness pierce my mind, and all ceased to be.

*****

Floating in the darkness, I couldn’t see or hear or smell or make use of any other of my senses except for touch. I knew this because I could feel the frozen darkness within me, soaking my body and numbing my senses. I couldn’t think, my frozen brain unable to do anything other than acknowledge the darkness’ chill. I didn’t know who or what I was, I only knew the dark, and its sister, the cold. All of a sudden, though my ability to hear was suspended in limbo with the rest of my body, I heard, or rather, felt a far away sound. I turned my perception in the direction of the sound, and after a few seconds - or maybe even years, I couldn’t tell, there was no time in that existence - I sensed the sound again, though this time it felt like a muffled yell.

“-light,” a bizarre, distorted voice sounded out, far-away in the darkness that engulfed me.

“Twilight,” it called out a name, but the name was unfamiliar to me.

“Twilight!” It shouted, and I realized, that name was mine!

I opened my eyes with a gasp, and felt my legs give out from under me. The next few moments I spent on the cold, slimy surface were in a haze. I was unable to focus my eyes as a long red and yellow blob appeared in my range of vision, and reach towards me. I first felt myself being lifted up off the hard floor, and then a sickening sensation boil into my stomach. Quickly, the queasy sensation rose from my stomach and into my throat, and in the next moment I tasted a foul, acidic grime in my mouth, and retched.

After I had finished hacking up what was left of my internal organs, my awareness of the world around me slowly began to return. The vile taste in my mouth was the first to make itself known to me, and my vision focused soon after it, presenting me an eyeful of my caustic waste, splattered out against the rocky ground. I began to retch again when my sense of smell returned to me, and the odoriferous odor plunged into my innocent nostrils.

Throughout my unpleasant experience of returning to life, my body remained as cold and numb as it had in the darkness. As I attempted to climb to my knees, the numbness receded, leaving the coldness to torment my being in solitude. My hearing returned last, and I immediately became aware of two voices worriedly chattering above my lowered form.

“Twilight! Are you okay? Twilight?” One nearly screamed out, and I identified it as Pinkie’s high-pitched voice, albeit no longer in its usually-chipper tone.

“Ms. Sparkle,” a low baritone sounded out - Macintosh -, his voice just as panicked, “we need to get you outta here an’ to a doctor fast!” Groggily attempting to stand up, I felt their hooves grab ahold of me, and escort me away from the noxious mess I had painted on the floor.

*****

I am unable to remember much of the return trip to Ponyville, as I kept falling in and out of unconsciousness. Throughout the hurried trip out of the Mirror Pool and through the Everfree Forest I only felt a constant sense of jostling, queasiness, and the pervasive chill, before I finally regained stable consciousness. When I came to be, I found myself thrown across Macintosh’s back like a rug, and, twisting my head to the side, that we were growing ever nearer to Ponyville General Hospital.

All at once, I fully awoke, and, energized by fear, I leapt from the large farmer’s back and established a small distance between my two friends and myself. I couldn’t allow myself to be taken into that building. Once inside, I could be subjected to the same tests I had performed on myself, only this time I wouldn’t be the only one privy to their results. I knew I couldn’t allow that to happen, and began preparing a transportation spell.

Just as I was about to cast the spell, I saw Pinkie lunge for me with outstretched hooves, but she was too late, for in the next moment, I was engulfed in a cloud of smoke. When the smoke dispersed, I found myself standing in the center of the Golden Oaks Library. Looking at the clock, I saw the time was 12:37. Galloping upstairs and into the bathroom, I laid myself in the tub and began to draw a bath. While the tub filled with the hottest water possible, I locked the door and reinforced the entire room with a security spell. Once the tub had filled to the brim, I shut off the tap and began performing various deep breathing exercises to keep myself from hyperventilating.

I laid there, motionless as the near-boiling water cleansed my body of the chill that had haunted it ever since my dreamed plunge into the Mirror Pool. About an hour after midnight (according to the bathroom clock), I heard the door to the library slam open as what sounded like a stampede entered the library. As the stomping hooves climbed the stairs, I was able to make out the worried voices of my closest friends; Applejack, Rarity, Fluttershy, Rainbow Dash, and Pinkie Pie. I heard them clop past the bathroom door and into my bedroom, where Spike’s voice soon added to the throng.

Leaving my room, with my beloved assistant now in tow, the group began to pass by the bathroom once again, but I heard one of them pause right in front of the door. The pony on the other side of the door attempted to turn the knob, and discovered that it was locked from the inside.

“Girls!” I heard Fluttershy’s normally demure voice shout out, “the light’s on in the bathroom, and the door is locked! I think Twilight’s in here!”

Right after the words had left her mouth, the other hooves clattered their way back to where Fluttershy stood right outside my door. Once the rest of the group had arrived, they began banging on the door and made various demands, pleadings, and requests that I open the door:

“Twilight! It’s us! Open the door!” Applejack’s worried twang shouted through the wood.

“Twi! Let us in there! We’re worried!” Dash followed, sounding even more concerned than Applejack had before her.

“Open up! Please, Twilight, open up!” Pinkie’s desperate tone pleaded through the door.

“Twilight! What’s going on?” Spike’s confused, and slightly frightened voice asked as it penetrated the wood.

“Please, dear, tell us what’s wrong!” Rarity demanded, before continuing, “we’re concerned for you!”

“Let us in, Twilight, please,” Fluttershy added, though I barely able to make her words out from the rest of the shouting.

I laid there, not moving or making a sound, listening to their distressed voices pierce the wooden gate of my sanctuary, wondering how they could be so concerned for one such as I; a pony who imagined and enjoyed the deaths of innocent ponies; a pony who was so thoroughly messed up in the mind that she had begun to envision her own death! What had this pony done to deserve such wonderful friends?

To my surprise, laying there in the bathtub, I began to cry. My friends must have heard my sobs echo through the door, for they at once fell silent.

“G-go away,” I managed to choke out, “please… just go away.”

No sound came from beyond the door, as though they hadn’t been there at all. I believed I was just talking to figments of my shattered mind, and began to cry in full earnest, until Fluttershy’s timid voice broke the silence:

“Twilight, please, let us talk to you, let me talk to you,” she begged, and I could imagine her crouching lower as if she was speaking to an injured animal.

“N-no, you d-don’t want to talk to me,” I pressed on, desperate to be left to cry alone, “I-I’m a bad pony.”

“You are anything but that, Twilight.” The buttercup yellow pegasus softly, yet firmly, retorted, “please, you don’t have to open up the door, I just want to talk to you. I’ll send the others away so it can just be the two of us alone, okay?”

I laid there in the tub, and thought long and hard on what I should to do. I knew I needed to get my emotions out to somepony, but I feared that they would turn away from me if I did so. I wanted to relieve my anxiety and fear on a shoulder, but was afraid of losing the pony it was attached to if I tried. After much debating with myself, I croaked out one word in reply:

“...Okay…”

I heard Fluttershy mutter a few words to the rest of my friends, which was followed by the sound of their descending hooves to the floor below, leaving just the two of us and the door alone. I heard her lay down on the floor , and for what felt like an eternity, the two of us sat there in silence.

“Twilight…” the pegasus mare paused a moment, before continuing, “I don’t really know what’s fully going on, but from what I’ve gathered from Pinkie, you, her, and Applejack’s older brother were in the Everfree Forest to seal the Mirror Pool, when you suddenly stopped moving. When Pinkie tried to get your attention, you just stared into nowhere, not responding to anything she did. When you did wake up, apparently you threw up and Pinkie and Macintosh tried taking you to the hospital, but when they got you there, you escaped.”

“Once you had teleported away,” she elaborated further, “Pinkie and Macintosh ran across town to wake the rest of us up so we could look for you, and we all came here first to wake up Spike and look for you. That’s all I really know, and all I want to do is to listen to whatever you feel like telling me. But please, don’t feel pressured to tell me anything!” She squeaked out, as timid as always

“No, it’s fine…” I stopped, unsure of how to proceed. Now that the emotional flood that had accompanied my tears had been washed away, more logical thoughts began to float to the surface of my mind, and I realized that I couldn’t reveal the full truth of the Itch to Fluttershy, no matter how much I wanted to. She was undoubtedly the most delicate of my friends, and I am certain that she would react the least favorably to the information that I dreamed about the deaths of ponies. I shuddered there in the tub, despite its warmth, to how she would view me if she knew that the “good memory” I had revisited earlier in the day was the remembrance of one such imagining. My newest task now seemed to be to reveal the truth to Fluttershy, while making sure that the account would fit into the half-truth I had told Applejack a week earlier, all the while still hiding the true nature of the Itch.

“...It’s just that I don’t really know how to properly explain it,” I paused, thinking to myself, ‘well, without having you freak out and view me as a monster.’

“You see,” I continued, “when I was frozen like that, at the Mirror Pool, I was having a hallucination.”

“You were seeing things?” Fluttershy, curious, asked, “oh! Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you!”

“It’s fine, Fluttershy. Though, actually, most hallucinations are auditory, not visual,” I answered, ‘most, being the imperative word.’

“And unfortunately,” I carried on, moving the topic away from the content of the hallucinations, “they’ve happened before now. They began a few weeks ago, and the last occurred last week at the Sugarcube Corner’s tenth anniversary party. You can ask Applejack for affirmation; she was there at the time and I’ve already told her a little about it. I asked her not to tell anypony about it, because I didn’t want to worry any of you over it.”

“I told Applejack that I suspected the hallucinations were caused by a lack of sleep, but I didn’t mention the other possible reason I believe may be there cause.” I paused for a moment, deciding to give her a cherry-picked truth, “you see, when I was a young filly, I was diagnosed with a panic disorder,” I began, telling her the truth, though it might’ve not been a truth related to the Itch. “This disorder caused me to have panic attacks at random intervals, seemingly without cause. In these attacks, I imagined myself in wildly unlikely situations; though all were extremely uncomfortable and stressing to me. My parents put me on a mild antidepressant to help me overcome the attacks, but I recently stopped taking them.” Recently, being a relative word, since I haven’t needed them since before becoming Princess Celestia’s personal student, “I did so in an attempt to take cognitive control over the disorder, though it seems that all I have done is cause it to return. I plan to start retaking them again soon, but it may take a while for the drugs effects to adhere,” I added as an afterthought, anticipating the future Itches yet to come.

“I’m sorry,” I continued, “I didn’t mean to cause all of this, I just wanted to cure these hallucinations quietly so I wouldn’t bother any of you. Though, it looks like I’ve failed at that,” I finished, letting the silence fill the space between us once again.

“Oh, Twilight,” I heard the mare’s voice echo through the wood, “you will never bother us; we’re your friends. No matter what is happening, if it’s important to you, it is important to all of us. We’re here for you Twilight, and we always will be.” She paused, before finishing, “so, please, Twilight, don’t shut us out.”

As my friend fell quiet, the silence seeped back through the crack under the doorway and filled the room. Unbidden, I used my magic to unlock the door and deactivated the magic shield protecting the room. The doorknob turned, the door swinging open to reveal Fluttershy. Her eyelids were just as puffy as I felt mine to be, and faint trails of recently wept tears stained the fur of her cheeks. The mare’s soft, blue eyes were lit with worry as she approached the tub, never leaving my own purple pair. With a small flap of her wings, the light yellow pegasus joined me in the water. She hugged my shivering - despite the warm temperatures - form with her forehooves, and held me like that as I began to cry into her shoulder.

We remained like that for a long time; Fluttershy just holding me close as I wept my pent-up anxieties and emotions into her buttercup-yellow fur. Eventually, I lifted my head, sniffling as I gave her a hiccup-ridden thanks.

“It’s fine, Twilight,” she smiled, looking into my reddened eyes, “everypony needs a good cry now and then.”

“Yes, well, thank you for providing a shoulder for me to do so on,” I replied, smiling for the first time since what felt like an eternity, “shall we head down and explain everything to our friends?”

“Only as much as you are comfortable with telling,” Fluttershy added, lifting herself off of me, “oh dear, we should probably get dry first, before we head downstairs.”

After drying Fluttershy and myself off with a quick-dry spell I knew, we descended, and were met by our worried friends. I made sure to first calm Spike down, reassuring him that everything was okay and that I was just stressed out from work. Once I was sure that he didn’t have any lingering doubts as to my most recent breakdown, I sent him to bed, and began addressing the other Element bearers. I first began by apologizing, especially to Pinkie, for causing them so much worry. I then detailed to them the revised version of what had been occurring for the past few weeks, having Fluttershy fill them in on the part about the medication for me. The reason I did so was because if I had told them my partially-fibbed explanation, Applejack would’ve spotted the deception the moment the first word came out of my mouth. With Fluttershy, I reasoned, relaying the information, who she herself believed in the half-truths I had told her, Applejack wouldn’t be able to detect any lies.

Either I was right in my assumption, or the orange mare recognized the deceit, but chose to respect my reasons for doing so, as she did not point it out then or take me aside later that evening. Once I had finished my retelling, my friends informed me that they wished to spend the night with me in the library. I, not wanting to offend them, and also desperately in need of some pony contact, agreed and began setting up various blankets and mattresses in the main room on which they could spend the evening. Once everypony was situated comfortably, my friends, fatigued from a busy Ponyville day and a frantic night, began to drop off, one by one, until I was the only one still awake.

Managing to sneak myself out of the circle of bed materials and ponies that had come to surround me, I tip-hoofed into the kitchen and retrieved this journal from the safe below with my magic, and began writing today’s exhausting occurrences down.

*****

The time is now 4:01 a.m., and I am only now beginning to feel the symptoms of fatigue. This past day has been far too emotionally charged for me to fall asleep easily, and now that I am alone with little fear of being interrupted, the possible implications of this most recent vision lurch out at me in this little moonlit room.

What I imagined today is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before, be it in real life, nightmares, or these vile delusions. That feeling of darkness seeping into my body, those freezing needles piercing my very being; is that what my “victims” feel as I watch them die? Oh, I hope not; I wouldn’t wish that upon anypony, no matter who they are.

And why does this particular vision differ from its predecessors? Is it some kind of subconscious moral-based backlash for the previously imagined atrocities, spurned by my revulsion and fear? No, it can’t be that, for no matter how much I hate these hallucinations, I still “enjoy,” at some basal and twisted level, the pain those poor ponies experience before their cruel deaths.

But now, I am the pony who suffers such a death! And I wonder in fear, ‘is this how the visions are going to occur from now on? That now, I must watch myself die from my own eyes, and feel death steal the life from my body?’ I know that this is a truly horrible thing to think, and even more so to write down, but I hope the coming of the next Itch heralds the end of some other pony, and not my own.

I am disgustingly depraved for thinking this, and I know I shall suffer many a sleepless night because of it, but I would rather watch somepony else die than experience those frozen needles pierce my hide again. No cold I have ever experienced, even the chilly winds of the frozen North, cannot compare with the sensations I felt as I sunk into the Mirror Pool’s abyss-like depths, and I dread to feel those hypothermic points perforating my muscles, sinking into my frostbitten bones again.

I’m afraid I’ll have to end tonight’s entry at this point. I think somepony is waking up from their slumber in the next room. I can hear them approaching the kitchen.

Goodnight and signing off,

Twilight Sparkle

Author's Note

Well, once again: Hello, how are you all doing? Sorry for taking so long in getting this entry published, but hopefully, now that Summer's here, I can get the next one to you all quicker than before (though I secretly doubt I'll be able to).
Thanks to all of you who favorited, liked, commented on, and looked at this story; I truly appreciate it. If you have anything to say about what I write, please feel free to post a comment. Critiques are especially welcome; I value them quite a bit.
Well, I hope you all enjoyed this newest entry!
Au revoir,
The Fruity Cousin