How has it become that I now feel uncomfortable and foreign in my own home?
I sit now at my dining table to write this, for it is the only spot which allows me to watch the room as I do so. The door no longer locks, and at night, the silence becomes unbearably loud.
There are no sounds at all. Not even the crickets chirp tonight.
I have been set on edge by the words of the old stallion. I fear that a strange sense of paranoia has gripped me, and the dull greys of the shadows dance wherever I turn my head. Things feel ‘off’, for lack of a better word, as if the world were tilted slightly on its side.
There is an emptiness in my ears that I long to fill, and I find myself wishing that the rains would come.
A few moments ago, I had returned from visiting Old Stallion Fenwick, a pony whom, in Twilight’s testimony, recognized and knew of the object. Upon showing up at his house, he started yelling at me, accosting me with vile terms and words that do not bear the need to be repeated, and when I asked if I had done anything to upset him, he merely responded:
‘Do you hear it?’
I asked him what it was I was supposed to be hearing.
‘She heard it,’ he said. ‘She did.’
And with a great shake of his head, the old stallion started to speak, and on and on he went about how Twilight should have never meddled, and how Twilight brought it back, and how the truth would come to take us away.
There was only one thing he said that brought me closer to what I had suspected, and that was this:
Twilight was poisoned, he said, by the truth, ever since she started listening.
At this point, he broke down into incoherency, babbling as he cried and muttered over a shortness of breath, as he started pacing the room with an intense lack of direction. With his invitation to depart his home, I made haste back to mine, with nothing more than his words to accompany me.
I am glad that I took the diversion, for once again, in my short-sightedness, I might have made yet another fateful error.
Twilight is not well. Twilight needs help, not persecution.
So quick would I have been, merely a year past, to act on impulse and pursue raw emotions. And yet, it led to me driving myself away.
No, I must find her.
With knowledge of her past words, and actions, however, there is one place that I ought to check, as well.
I must depart for the Bay.