Essay on An Immense Pressure On Twilight 's Head
An immense pressure bore on Twilight’s head. It felt as though an anvil were atop, weighing her down. The world swam into focus. All around her were thousands of strange blobs of colours mixing and weaving and collimating into one another. Soon they all faded away. Her mind told her she was home, back in her personal chambers, sleeping the night away, but that she had been disturbed by something. Surely she would fall back asleep.
When she reluctantly raised her head, her eyes adapted to the dim light shafting through the window. Outside was a clear night sky, with only a full moon and a few scattered stars. In the distance, Twilight could barely make out what was in the darkness.
When the momentary confusion as to where she was passed, the cold, hard reality stuck her like a train. It obliterated her. She did everything she could to find a clock or a calendar that might be in the room she was in, but she wasn’t able to do much right there and then, given that she had just woken up from one hundred years of unconsciousness.
Memories of the past surged through her, drowning her in a torrent of horror. Her friends. Spike. And…Minuette. No! Surely she’d be elderly by now, much like the rest of her friends. Where were they, and more importantly, where was Minuette?
In her dreams, Twilight had hoped she would see her when she woke up. She could even recollect her hearing Minuette’s words of reassurance that she’d be there when she…