...Hello.
My name is Twilight Sparkle. I am thirty-two years old, and I suffer from Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.
Basically, this condition is when ponies have unwanted and repeated thoughts, behaviours, feelings, or ideas. In other words, my life is a systematic pattern. I developed this condition about three years after becoming a princess.
Now you're probably thinking, "How can an alicorn princess like me help rule over a nation?". Well, the other princesses were very kind when they found out about my little... difference. There are even times when I kind of like it. I never have the huge workload I used to, and life is simple. Everything just seems to fit into place.
I do miss Spike, though. Once he got a little older, he moved away. He began his training to be a part of Celestia's royal guard just a few months ago. I hope it works out for him. I'm sure he'll be great at it.
My friends still come and visit me, although not as often as they used to. I don't live in the library anymore, Celestia said I would be more efficient if I wasn't running a library and tending to my royal duties at the same time. So, they moved me to a nice house beside the ponyville lake, and I drive my magically drawn carriage, or car as some ponies had began calling them, to work every day at the new addition to the mayor's office where I do what needs doing.
But yesterday, I experienced a break in my own system.
I awoke at exactly 6:45 in the morning as I do every morning. Before opening the door to leave my room I touched the doorknob with my hoof three time. I have to. I need to.
On my way down to the stairs to my kitchen I made absolutely sure not to step on the second last step. I never touch that step. I just can't.
I made my usual breakfast of black coffee and a marigold sandwich on toasted bread. I never eat anything else in the morning, just those two.
Levitating my coffee, I opened my door to find the Ponyville daily newspaper sitting on my doorstep as it was every morning. I picked it up and brought it inside with me.
As I sipped my coffee, I opened it and began to browse the local news headlines, like usual. But today, something was... missing.
I couldn't put my hoof on it. Had I forgotten something? This strange feeling stayed with me all the way to my carriage. As I stepped outside, I made sure to lock my front door, then unlock it and lock it again.
As I drove to work, I felt like a part of me was missing. What did I miss? How could I possibly have missed it?
I thought the feeling would leave my mind while I was at work that day. It didn't. That feeling stayed with me for twelve whole hours.
I left my office at exactly 6:45 PM to go back to my house.
About twenty-five minutes from my home, I stopped for a traffic light at the intersection for Marebury and Westway.
When the light turned green, though, I felt that strange feeling again, but stronger. I was alone, save the stallion driving the carriage behind me. He blared his horn for me to move along, but instead of accelerating, I rolled down my window and motioned for him to go around me. He did.
I just sat there, stopped at the intersection. Something is seriously wrong. What am I missing here?
I started touching everything in my car, hoping that something, anything would spark my memory. I touched the dashboard, the leather seats, the emergency brake, even the roof. It did nothing for me.
My hooves were trembling as I slowly drove away. This isn't right. I don't like this.
Upon my arrival at my lakeside home, I parked the carriage in my garage. I wash my car every weekday. Never on weekends. I only ever wash the front and the back. Never the sides. No matter how dirty they get, I never wash the sides. I simply just can't.
But the feeling came back again as I washed. Another gap in my routine. No. Not again. First the news, then the intersection, now this?
Struggling to stay calm, I jogged to my backyard. Only jog. Never walk, never run.
As I opened my tool shed, I felt yet another thing missing from my pattern.
I screamed.
"This isn't right! This isn't right! This isn't right!"
I maged to stumble out of the shed and gaze out at the lake. It's surface was like a sheet of glass. It always seemed to calm me when my emotions got out of control. But tonight, all I wanted to do was sleep, I needed to finish this day.
-----
I awoke the next morning at 6:45 AM. Touched the doorknob three times. Made sure not to touch the second to last step on my way to the kitchen. I prepared my black coffee and marigold sandwich. Then I opened todays newspaper. Browsed the news headlines.
...It's still missing...
I became aggravated. What could I be missing?
Hurrying out the door in a rage, I locked the door, unlocked it, locked it again. Then I drove off to work.
Surprisingly, I almost always get a lot of work done when I'm angry, so I at least felt a twinge of accomplishment as I left the office at 6:45 PM and got into my carriage.
I drove fast on my way home. Very fast.
What... am... I... missing?
I approached the red light at Marebury a Westway.
Come on... Think... Think!
A mare was walking in the middle of the intersection, on her way to the other side.
Why can't I remember!?
Her head spun and her crossed eyes attempted to focus on my car that was speeding towards her at eighty-five miles per hour.
I noticed her too. A wave of horror crossed over my face as I watched her dive to one side in an attempt to dodge my carriage and reach the other side of the road, using her wings to gain extra distance.
I swerved into the same direction. A loud clunk was made as I crushed the mare under my vehicle.
As I jumped out of my car, I hesitated on what to do. She lay there, wings and legs broken, writhing in a growing pool of blood, making terrible guttural wails.
I popped open the trunk on the back of my carriage and heaved her in with my telekinesis. I drove.
When I arrived at my garage, I made sure to wash the blood off the front and rear of my vehicle. The sides were not necessary.
After dragging her broken body out to my backyard, I jogged out to my shed. Inside it I found black garbage bags, cinderblocks, and a hacksaw.
After dismembering the pegasus, I was able to fit both her remains and a cinderblock into one of the bags.
Dropping it into the lake was all there was left to do.
-----
The next morning, I made sure to wake up at exactly 6:45 AM and touch my doorknob three times before skipping the second to last step on my way to the kitchen. While eating my sandwich and drinking my black coffee, I read the local newspaper.
The top headline: Hit and Run Serial Killer Strikes Again.
I smiled.
Back to normal.