A Rare Mystery

by the frank


Postscript

Even now, I can't seem to wrap my head around what I did. Was it reallly I that did it?

I have written down my story but not even using pen and paper to distance myself from it all, can I bring myself to write down everything. I'm to ashamed, I can't tell even myself the full truth, even now. I tried and tried... and still I couldn't give myself away, not until the story was almost over and the Lieutenant had it all in his hands.

Why? I suppose it's rather simple. It is not ladylike to murder. No, I am not proud.

But I can't really say I regret it either.

Framing Twilight was my mistake. Had I not...then perhaps...

Not that she didn't deserve it.



Harlot.

It all goes back to her, I suppose. My love. My life.

Sunset Shimmer.

I hated her. I loved her. No one but me should have her, No one but me deserved her.

And now no one could get her.




Into the night, I go... Alone. Goodbye. Thank you for watching.