Used to be I was level headed, sane, if you will. But then mother went and did it. And I lost it. I ended up in a mental hospital, frustrated, sad, confused, but above all lost. Then he went and killed me. And now, by some cruel twist of reality, I'm now here, in a land of technicolor, happy, mostly sane ponies. I don't think any of them even understand me. But that's perfectly fine. Because when I died, I lost my sanity, but gained something greater. I hear them, talking to me. Pleading me to do their bidding. They've already given me a shred of power, and all I need to do is fulfill their requests, and if I do, I will gain more power.

Please understand that this is my first story, so constructive criticism would be nice. Also please note that I myself have type 2 Bipolar disorder, and frequently experience psychotic episodes. Don't be surprised if you see errors in the story popping up every now and then. This idea came to me in a manic episode, so be gentle.
Character tags will be added as the story progresses.