The Psychic Staring Effect
Scopaesthesia
by Present Perfect
Twilight Sparkle frowned at her book, set it down and let off a loud huff.
"I can't believe this!"
Spike looked up, the surprise on his face quickly giving way to tired anticipation. "What is it now?" The emphatic groan on the final word befit a long suffering sidekick.
Twilight pointed to the book, a smallish volume in comparison to some of the large, musty tomes adorning the castle library's shelves. It had a picture on the front.
"I'm in the middle of chapter sixteen of Daring Do and the Icon of Malinalxoch," she said. "Listen to this:
"'As Daring Do entered the ruined temple, her feathers stood on end. All around her, the sounds of insects skittering across stone filled her ears. Legends told of the fierce guardians, the stone serpents of Malinalxoch, who had once kept watch over these very halls. Everywhere she looked, there was nothing but carved stone walls and empty torch sconces, yet at every turn, she could feel innumerable eyes upon her, watching her every move.'"
A shiver worked its way down Spike's fragile body. "Wow, creepy! A. K. Yearling's really good at that atmospheric stuff, isn't she?"
Twilight sighed. "That's not what I mean, Spike. I'm talking about the trope! You know, eyes watching her when nopony's there? I thought she was a better writer than that! I have half a mind to write her myself and give her a piece of my mind."
"Uh..." Spike scratched under his left wing. "I'm not... exactly seeing what the problem is here."
"Guh!" Twilight threw her hooves up in the air. "The feeling of being 'watched', Spike! It's just a cheap way to fabricate tension where there otherwise wouldn't be any, and I'm sick to death of ponies writing about it like it's a real thing!"
"But it--" Spike snapped his mouth shut. "Okay, you know what? This is obviously gonna be one of those Twilight moments. You just wait there, I'll be right back."
He clambered to his feet and sprinted out the library door before she could formulate a response. What might he mean by "those Twilight moments"? No doubt that was what she contemplated while forced to sit and wait, a look of quiet confusion, or perhaps shock, on her face. How else might she have spent that long, quiet minute before Spike returned with Starlight Glimmer?
"Okay," Starlight said, looking flustered as she entered the library, "Spike told me everything. Do you want hot cocoa? A blanket? A book, maybe?" She paused, then added, "A different book, I mean."
"What I want," said Twilight, testiness saturating her voice, "is for ponies to stop treating me like a four-year-old every time I get a little irritated by something! Why does everypony immediately go for the 'Twilight's going nuts again' act? Batten down the hatches, it's Twilynanas time and everything's gonna explode! Twice!"
Starlight took a step back, like the force of Twilight's outburst had blown her towards the door.
"In all fairness," she said, hoof raised in a placating gesture, "when you stand on a table and start breathing hard and shouting, you do kind of maybe sort of look like you might explode something at a moment's notice. Just saying!"
Indeed, Twilight was perched atop an end table, sides heaving, teeth and the whites of her eyes showing. The table, dwarfed by her frame, rattled every time she twitched. Her mane frizzed out in every direction. No doubt these were signs that she was off her nut.
She paused then, a long moment she used to seemingly, finally take stock of the inherent ridiculousness of her state. After it had passed, she flapped her wings and fluttered back to the floor, cheeks flushing pink.
"Okay," she said, voice low and contrite, "so maybe I do go a little overboard from time to time." She huffed. "But that doesn't change the fact that what got me upset in the first place is still worth getting upset over! Or... at least a little annoyed over."
She gave them a sheepish smile. Starlight and Spike shared a glance.
"Twilight, do you mean you've never felt like you were being watched?" Starlight asked.
Twilight stared, wide-eyed, at the two of them. The longer she stared, the more likely it seemed that she believed she had, indeed, lost her mind.
"Nooo," she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was afraid it might break something, "not even once. You can't possibly mean that... That it's a real thing?"
Starlight and Spike shared another look. "Well," said Spike, "I pretty much always feel like something's watching me when I go to the Castle of the Royal Pony Sisters."
Starlight barked a short laugh. "That's nothing! I feel things watching me in this castle, and there's no one here but the three of us! And, uh, sometimes Trixie!" She cleared her throat and looked away from Twilight.
"Yeah!" said Spike with a grin. "I kinda learned how to ignore that, but I still feel it all the time! I figure it's just how big and open this place is. Not to mention cold. And empty." He shivered. "All this talk about being watched is giving me the heebie-jeebies!"
Starlight mirrored his shiver. "I'm so glad you said something, because I wasn't going to, but me too, Spike."
Spike's retort died in his throat as Twilight rose to her hooves and started to pace.
"But that just marks it as a delusion. I know there are often things lurking in the old castle, but there's nothing here! So there's no correlation between the feeling and reality. It's just... nerves!" She gave a short, sharp laugh. "The fact that you two can psych each other out just talking about it is all but a proof in itself!"
"Well, but..." Starlight frowned. "There's more than just those two examples, Twilight. Ask anypony, or just about anypony, and they'll tell you they've felt it before. Someone watching you from across the street, or from behind a library bookshelf, maybe a pony trying to make eyes at you at a dance..."
Twilight's face scrunched up. "Starlight, please understand that I mean this very kindly when I say, I just don't believe you. What you're describing sounds like psychic powers, like telepathy or something. Abilities like that can only come about via powerful and very heavily restricted magics. I should know! I've tried them!" She emphasized the next few words by tapping the floor. "Extrasensory awareness doesn't just happen. Whether there's something watching you or not, you can't actually know about it!"
She returned to her pacing with renewed vigor, stomping around the other two, who seemed resigned to just let her have her spleen.
"It's a trope, pure and simple!" Twilight's fervor grew, unabated. "A narrative trick with no basis in reality! A cheap shortcut the use of which is entirely beneath a writer of A. K. Yearling's caliber!" She picked up the offending book in her magic and made a face at it, as though it were a repulsive, rotting corpse. "I'd be equally as upset if she, I don't know, wrote about Daring Do falling in love at first sight, or sharing an unspoken thought with somepony else. That isn't something ponies can do!"
Spike's eyes widened. "Wait, love at first sight isn't real?" His lower lip wobbled, and his eyes filled with tears.
Twilight stopped short, the fear of the grave, or something like it, creeping across her face.
"Uh, in books, that is!" she said quickly, voice leaping an octave. "It's totally a writing shortcut. Nothing like the real thing, of course."
She gave a nervous laugh and hastily added, "We'll talk about it when you're older!"
The three of them stared in silence at one another while Spike sniffed and wiped at his face. Twilight broke that silence with a sigh as she slumped to the floor.
"Do you two at least understand what I'm getting at?" She looked up at them with a forlorn, hang-dog expression. "Am I just... I don't know, am I making a complete idiot out of myself right now?"
Starlight trotted over to her, sat down, and wrapped a leg over Twilight's withers. "Twilight," she said with steady sympathy, "I'm sorry if we treated you poorly or made you feel foolish. I guess maybe you just haven't experienced these things. But it doesn't mean others haven't. That's what you're going to have to wrap your head around here, and I know you can do it. You're a smart mare." She gave Twilight a squeeze.
"But I've only ever heard about these things in books," Twilight said with a light sniff. "I didn't think they were real! Is... C-could there be something wrong with me? Could I be missing out on things other ponies take for granted and never have realized it until now?"
Spike ran over and wrapped his arms around her, his previous shattered innocence replaced with a big, exuberant smile. "If you are, Twilight, it doesn't stop us from loving you!"
"Aww, Spike!" She pressed a crooked smile to his forehead and squeezed him. "That's so sweet, thank you! And thank you, too, Starlight." She gave a weak chuckle. "I guess maybe I did go a little nuts over something that's probably not that worth going nuts over."
Starlight smiled. "Glad we could help you realize that."
"It's still hard to believe anypony could feel those things you told me about." Twilight let out a long breath, then brightened. "Maybe I could turn that disbelief into a project! A study of extrasensory perceptions in ponykind! How about it?"
Spike laughed. "Sounds more constructive than screaming at ponies while you trot a hole in the floor!"
Twilight gave them both a hug, then stood. "Thank you both so much for making me feel better. I'm sorry if I worried you."
"Nothing I'm not used to," muttered Spike. When Starlight elbowed him, he hastily added, "I mean, uh, what are good friends for?"
"We'll leave you to your project, Twilight," said Starlight. "Come on, Spike! I could go for some ice cream after all that good friendship work."
She trotted out of the room, Spike hot on her heels. "Lady, you just said the magic words!"
Twilight watched them go, a long, happy sigh escaping her lips. Once they were out of sight, she closed the library doors, moved to her desk, and pulled out parchment, ink and quill.
"I'll start with a checklist," she muttered. Any further commentary was lost in the sounds of scratching.
So Twilight no doubt learned something, no doubt grew as a pony. She certainly came away from her little breakdown with something formative to turn all that pent-up energy and frustration toward. A good ending, and a lesson well learned by all and company.
It's just a real shame she's not able to notice when someone's watching her.
I'll be honest, Spike and Starlight had me worried there for a moment. But it looks like I needn't have concerned myself with being seen in the first place.
Poor Princess Twilight Sparkle. You never knew the danger you were in until it was too late.
Author's Note
In case it wasn't obvious, this is a story about autism. Though, who knows, it could be another case of mistaken identity.
If you liked it and want to see more stories like it, or if you thought it sucked and would rather read something similar done better, please check out The Seer's After I Looked Up, the Stars Had Gone Away. I read it after I came up with the idea for this story, or I wouldn't have bothered writing it at all.
The definition of scopaesthesia was quoted from https://www.howtopronounce.com/scopaesthesia
Thanks to RDT, brokenimage321 and Penguifyer for their feedback! :D And thank you, of course, for reading.
