Confusion.

This is how she lived. One of the only emotions she understood. Why things happened the way they did, why she felt the things she didn't want, and why she couldn't put aside the one part of her mind she thought about the most. Be it a sign of illness, perhaps. It would make sense. The things she had been through during the past month had only made her perspective in this category grow, and from her findings, the only possible answer would more than likely be a feared mental disease of hers; Insanity.

Worry.

Now, she knew that insanity was a low likely thing. Things would appear more unclear, even more blurred than things already were. She wouldn't be able to understand most things, although she can't understand a lot of things at this moment. This feeling was caused not only by her thoughts, by the darkness that corrupted her mind, but her physical ability as well. The feeling she had when she looked at her legs. The thing that made her think so much. Still, no matter how much thought she put into it, no matter the scientific study she did, she could not point down why they were the way the were. How they got there, and even when. She assumed it'd been recently, due to her friends earlier comments about them their selves. She didn't know, they didn't know, no one knew. Confusion, worry, and the worst feeling of them all.

Pain.

This had to be the breaking point. Though worry and confusion out ruled her mental state of mind, pain had to be the most unsettling thing she had ever felt.

In all the years she had lived, only pushing up to these moments were what she remembered. It was as if the world paused at some moment in time just to toy with her, to play games with her. Though nothing made sense, she knew she was of existence. It was obvious, of course. If it weren't, then she wouldn't have thought so much.

She was different, and this wasn't a compliment. She wasn't normal. She wasn't the pony everyone thought was
strange but admired for how outgoing she was. She wasn't awkward, or shy, or dull or boring or unattractive. It was the way her legs were that made others terrified of her. She was different because the ponies were scared of her, thought her as a threat, feared her.

The two, long metal knives that now cover what used to be soft, purple legs now pressed against her flank constantly. They went down to the ground, shining silver to the very tip, a sharp dead end. A giant screw, jammed into the center of her used to be Cutie Mark, tearing away the skin and eating at the flesh, breaking the veins and slicing the muscle open. Blood had stained and hardened her soft fur, trickling down the dreadful blade. And though that seemed fine for a cartoon, technicolor miniature horse, the problem was this: This wasn't an illusion of insanity, this was reality.

All day it hurt. All night it hurt. From the moment she woke up to the moment she slept, it hurt. She dreamt of it while asleep, and noticed it while awake. It ached non-stop, and her mind was set to this subject always. There wasn't a passing, breathing moment that it didn't ache, that she thought of anything else.

This caused her paranoia. She didn't know if this was the worst, or if there was more to come. What sorts of things lingered in the darkness, and what shadows were alive. Whatever had turned her like this made her mind scatter, her heart race. Maybe she was under a spell, maybe she was in a coma. And with all of this unexplained madness going on, who knows what else could happen. Monsters could be waiting for her
for all she knew, but perhaps they had already found her, for she was already a monster.

Anxiety. She was afraid to make friends in fear of them running away, already had happened to her before. Her pet dragon, Spike, although more of an assistant he was still her best friend, was taken away by the princess because she was so unstable. Her friend Rainbow Dash, whom she found very annoying over her boasting and self indulgence, almost sliced into two after Twi had went crazy on her. Yeah, she got the magic to regenerate her into an even cooler Dash, filled with actual friendly elements and covered with badass tattoos, but she still couldn't clear her mind that this wasn't the real Rainbow Dash. It wasn't that she didn't like her, she was just overwhelmed with stress. It wasn't her fault exactly; You'd be stressed too if you suddenly woke up like this, no one to have the answer.

She could always just contact the highest ruler, Princess Celestia, right? Wrong. Celestia never writes back, never wants to accept visitors when Twi arrives, and always seems to ignore her just because it was /her/. Whatever she did was unknown to why the princess won't help, yet she still tries to contact her. Maybe Celestia had a fear of her. Maybe something happened between her and the princess and she just couldn't remember. Maybe Celestia had made her the way she is.

/Too/ far.

But why her? How could her royal teacher let her fall? The princess was her tutor, her teacher, the inspiration for her to be who she was before she became this monster. The princess taught her everything she knew and helped her be everything she had become. Without her, she felt like nothing. Like nothing mattered, like /she/ didn't matter. What was there left of her but a failure? She relied on the princess, and all Twilight did was lean against her to support herself. She was nothing now, she was nothing before. Celestia was who held her up, and now she realizes that she was never the one who brought herself up. She was an empty shell that everyone else kept stable. She wasn't able to do anything without others.

But now, she was this.

She was completely determined to get these deadly weapons off her flank, and she would stop at nothing to make her seem normal again, and to remember what it was like to be loved. To get her friends back, to get them to love her again, to be able to approach others without them running, and to get the princess to love her again. All these things were what mattered to her, but all these things were whisked away when the sudden change happened. Was being different the cost? Surely her entire life couldn't be thrown away by something so simple that the world wanted, to teach that it was okay to be different.

But she was a threat. To her friends, her family. What family or friends did she have left, anyway? Other than one of the only ponies she had left in her life, she had nothing. Hell, the last character left in her life isn't even real. Nothing but a brainwashed mind shoved into a new body. Her little Dashie. She still looked like her, only covered with some pretty cool art, but that didn't confound her. It just meant that all she could do was sit back and watch as her lifeless friend danced around.

It was fine, being alone. Judging by the way it's been for a long while, she took this as the opportunity to get to know her new self. Try to think of another pointless way to get out of this mess, to catch up on how horribly wrong things were, time to just lay down and feel her aching legs press against her for another eternity. Only, it wasn't fine.

This is who she was, is, and always will be. She didn't have friendship anymore. Without help, she couldn't do anything.

Because without her friends, what magic did she have?