The Nightmare Journal

by Starhunter

Rating: teen
Tags: Tragedy, Slice of Life, Original Character, My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, Dark, Changelings
Length: 4084

Columbine can't seem to get a good night's rest. Will starting a dream journal help keep away the nightmares that haunt her sleeping hours, or will it reveal a problem much deeper than bad dreams?

Columbine is an ordinary pegasus with an unusual problem - she can't sleep. She has been plagued with nightmares that she can't seem to escape of dark, shadowy beings wandering her house while her family is asleep. Desperate for a good night's sleep, she begins keeping a dream journal. What it reveals is less about dreaming and more about the very real problems that may be causing her nightmares in the first place.

{Submitted for EqD's Halloween Horror Story Competition. This is my first time working in horror, so constructive feedback is very welcome.}

Published 2013-10-15 02:20:02 UTC
Last updated 2013-10-15 02:20:02 UTC

The Nightmare Journal

~Day 1, Eve ~

I don't know how to start something like this. This is why I always hated journal writing in school, and why I never kept one when I was a filly. Truth be told, I feel like a bit of a fool trying to start one now, at my age. But the book I bought about dealing with nightmares said that keeping a dream journal was an important step to overcoming whatever is bothering you.

I have my doubts. But at this point I'm willing to try anything for a good night's sleep.

So here goes. My name is Columbine. Most people call me Colly, expect for my husband Larkspur (who usually calls me "honey") and my eight-year old son Lemongrass (who still calls me "Mama"). I work weather patrol out of Apple Loosa. I have a strange kind of cutie mark - an open eye shaped like a triangle. People say that my talent is being able to see the best in people - I've always been pretty good at that - though my Grandma always said it was bound to be something mystical. But I've never seen any sign of that, myself. I guess that should do for a start to a new journal. Lets' see what else I'm supposed to do.

The book says that I ought to begin by writing down anything that I'm worried about before I go to bed, so I can see if there are any common themes between my worries and my bad dreams.

This is hard.

I'm worried about everything.

Sweet Celestia, that looks horrible when I write it like that. And it's not really true. But I worry a lot these days - a lot more than I used to, anyways. I guess that comes with getting older. Larkspur works for the Orchards doing courier delivery, so he's away a lot more that I'd like. I've got a son who is just learning to fly properly, which is stressful enough for any mare. I'm a little ways into my thirties, but I like to think that weather work keeps me looking a couple of years younger. But who knows how long until I'm preening grey streaks out of my plumage. It's a lot of little things, which add up to a big pile of worry.

And then there are the nightmares.

I used to love snuggling into my covers at the end of the night. Closing my eyes, and listening to the sounds of the leaves outside my window blowing in the breeze. It used to put me right to sleep. Now, I sleep with the window closed and latched. I can't help it - the nightmares have made me frightened of everything. Every noise after dark makes me jump, and sets my heart to racing. Even the idea of going to bed makes me anxious, and it's been weeks since I had a proper night's sleep.

Each morning I'm supposed to write about my nightmares, but since this is the first entry I guess I should probably include some kind of summary of the problem to this point. Maybe dealing with them before bed will help me keep them from showing up again tonight.

All the dreams I can remember lately have been the same. In the dream, I find myself lying in bed, and then I realize there is something in my house. Sometimes it opens doors downstairs, or walks up and down the hallway outside our bedroom. It's hooves don't sound like a pony's do - they sound like dry leaves blowing across the hardwood, crackling and scraping. Sometimes I try to get out of bed, but find that I can't move my limbs. I just lay there without moving while the creature walks around my home. Sometimes I just huddle under my blankets waiting for the noises to stop, feeling helpless and afraid. But in the end, it's always the same. I hear my door open, and I hear the thing walking towards the bed. I feel a horrible, numbing coldness, and I hear something breathing beside my ear. And I feel this awful, cold certainty that I'm about to be devoured.

And then I wake up.

It's been happening for weeks now. At first I thought it was just all the overnight trips that Larkspur has been working these past couple of months. I thought that maybe I just wasn't used to going to bed alone anymore. But they keep getting worse. Yesterday night, I woke up to find my son Lemongrass standing in my doorway. He said that he could hear me shouting something in my sleep from his bedroom. What kind of a parent makes her eight-year old son get out of bed to check on her?

That's why I finally bought a book, and that's why I'm writing this stupid journal.

So I guess that's that. I'm going to bed now. Here's hoping.

~ Day 2, Morn ~

Just woke up. Cold sweat. Made tea, settled down. Same dream again. This time, I could move. In a way, this was worse than not being able to. It made everything seem more real. I can remember feeling the hardwood under my hooves, and how every step betrayed me with little creaks and groans as I climbed out of bed and moved towards the bedroom door.

I could hear the creature prowling in the hallway like it always does. I remember thinking - in the kind of logic that makes sense when you are asleep - that if I could see it, maybe that might make it less frightening. That maybe seeing it would scare it away.

I opened the door. It creaked, so loudly I felt sure the neighbours must have heard. None the less, I poked my muzzle out into the hallway, trying to catch a glimpse of what was making the sounds.

It was standing in the hallway outside my son's room. It was too dark to see anything but a great, misshapen silhouette made of unnatural angles and curves. It made a sound as it stood there... it chittered, like some kind of giant insect. It seemed to be waiting for something.

I stepped forward. I wanted to chase it away from my son's room - dream logic again, I suppose, thinking that the hulking shadow would be frightened by a pint-sized Pegasus like me - and the thing stopped. It's head turned towards me, and it's mouth sagged open, revealing rows of jagged teeth. It chittered again ~ no, it chittered AT ME, as if chiding me for peeking. Then the cold feeling came, and it turned and came towards me. I remember turning to run, the blood pumping in my ears, thinking I needed to lead this ravenous beast away from Lemongrass.

But you can't run from a shadow. I can remember the feeling of the beast's breath on my back, feeling it's mouth close around my neck...

And then I woke up.

The panic was bad, but I'm over that now. But what is left is a sense of despair - the hopeless dread of knowing that it's waiting for me any time I close my eyes. That I can't run or hide, because in the end a pony needs to sleep. The awful feeling that next time maybe it will finally gobble me up.

There is one other thing, now that I think about it. In the dream, I was alone in bed. When I woke up next to Larkspur I was almost surprised to see him there. I wonder what the book will say about that.

I can't imagine it will be anything good.

~Day 2, Eve ~

Second day of pre-sleep writing. I spent a bunch of time today thinking about what I wrote this morning. Maybe my nightmares have something to do with Lark and I.

I'm glad he doesn't know I'm writing this, in a way. I feel like I'm talking about him behind his back. But that isn't true. I don't want to talk to other ponies about our problems. But writing them down helps. I'm sure it's nothing. It's just another thing my mind is making a big deal out of. It's the lack of sleep making me stupid, as well as tired.

It's just that he gets home so late these days. He's missed dinner three times this week, and now tonight he said he needed to head back to the office about another order. He's still not home, and I put Lem to bed over an hour ago.

Heading back to the office... it's the most cliched line in all Equestria, isn't it? Sweet Celestia, if I said to anyone that he was telling me something like that, I know darn well what they'd think.

But I don't. I won't. Larkspur is a good stallion, and a good husband.

I'm going to bed. And so help me, if I run into some kind of nightmare creature tonight, I'm going to buck it right in the shins.

~ Day 3, Morn ~

Didn't have a nightmare last night.

I almost wish I had.

What woke me this time was Larkspur getting home. At a quarter to four in the morning. I thought for sure it was the nightmare starting when I heard the door open, so I sat bolt upright. I think he was nearly as startled as I was. He apologized for waking me, and came in to lie down on his side of the bed. He gave me a peck on the cheek and told me to go back to sleep.

But I couldn't. I work weather patrol, so I've got a pretty good nose. So I couldn't help but notice that when he lay down, there was something off about things. The way he smelled wasn't right. He smelled kind of loamy, as if he'd been out by the fens a ways up north of town.

Nobody lives out there - at least, no one receiving deliveries from the Orchard. The only people who even go out there anymore are young fillies and colts looking for a place to snog without their parents knowing. And that's the only reason anyone goes.

I spent most of the night laying in bed, torn between wanting to wake him up and demand to know what was going on and being terrified of the possible answer.

~ Day 3, Eve ~

I know I'm supposed to write about what's worrying me, but this book is starting to read more like a confession than a journal. But my husband is acting strange, and my marriage might be falling apart around me. So what else can I do?

Larkspur came home early today. He said it was because his run last night had cleared his docket for the afternoon, so he could come home and spend some time with Lemongrass and I. He and Lem took a trip over to the bakery to pick up desert while I was making dinner, and the whole time I they were gone I was rehearsing what I was going to say to Larkspur after Lem was in bed for the night.

But here it is just past dinner, and I can barely keep my eyes open. I almost nodded off during dinner, and Larkspur asked if I'd been sleeping alright. I couldn't lie to him about it, so he told me that he was going to take care of Lemongrass for the night, and that I should go straight to bed.

The way he looked when he said it ~ he was genuinely worried. About me. How could I ask him about last night when he's looking at me like that, with those big blue eyes of his.

And he's right. Ever since they got home, I've felt utterly beat. I'm going to hit the hay.

~ {A Scribble} ~

I just dreamed that...

I can't write. Later.

~ Day 4, Lunch ~

I had to call in sick to work today, because the dreams last night were so bad that I woke up sobbing just after midnight, and couldn't get back to sleep. Since then, I managed to mostly keep it together - enough to see Larkspur off to the store, and see Lemongrass off to school, but I'm in no shape to be flying around storm-clouds. It's almost lunch time, and it's taken me this long to get together the gumption to write something in here about what happened. I tried last night, but I was shaking so hard that I couldn't even hold a pen. That, and I keep losing my nerve.

Last night I dreamt that Lemongrass drowned in the bath.

I think I need to see some kind of a therapist. I wrote that first line, and then spent the last half hour curled up on the couch, crying my eyes out. I can't keep living like this. But if I do see someone, then having this all written down will be easier than trying to say it. Describing it will only make me burst into tears in the therapist's office, and that would be so embarrassing.

The dream: I woke up, like I usually do. I could hear noises coming from the bathroom. I could hear water splashing everywhere, like someone was thrashing around in the bath tub. Then I heard Lem's voice screaming in panic, then calling for help. Not just calling - pleading. Pleading for me to come and help him.

The voice was cut short by the splashing, and then started again. I could hear fear and desperation as he gasped and screamed, and then the thrashing sounds came again, as if something were forcing him down into the tub, holding him under to try to muffle his voice.

And I just lay there, not moving. That was the worst part. Because somewhere in my mind I felt like I could move, if I wanted to. But I just... I didn't. I didn't care. I just felt cold and empty. I lay there listening to MY CHILD DROWNING, and I was... ambivalent. I just wanted the screaming to stop.

When I finally woke up, I ran out of my room to go and find Lem. He wasn't in his bed. I was so panicked I started shouting his name, running around the house looking for him.

I found him in the kitchen with his father. They were both sitting at the Kitchen table. I ran to Lem and grabbed hold of him, and for a while I just held him like that. I was so relieved, I just couldn't stop shaking. Even then, I felt like ice-water had been dumped all over me.

When I finally got my act together enough to ask why he was up, Larkspur gave me a cool look, and told me that I wasn't the only one having bad dreams. Then he took Lem to put him back to bed, and I sat in the kitchen with the lights on, too scared to go back to bed.

I felt horrible. I FEEL horrible. I just lay there while someone I love more than life itself was drowning, and I didn't lift a hoof to help him. What kind of monster am I? What kind of horrible creature has slithered beneath my skin to make me want to act like that?

I'm seriously considering just trying not to sleep tonight. Maybe a night of no sleep, followed by a long day of work catching up on my backlog from today will make me too tired to dream.

~ Day 4, Midnight ~

I didn't think I was going to sleep, so I didn't write before bed.

But I guess I fell asleep on the couch. I had another nightmare.

The dream: I woke up on the couch, and the shadow-creature was waiting for me. And this time it had company. A second creature circled around the couch, until both were standing over me. They were angular and ugly, and their eyes were a sickly blue-green. Not eyes like ponies have, They were insect eyes - eyes with many little facets, like some kind of rotting gemstone.

And then one of them opened their mouth, and a voice came out. It was low, and serpentine in the way that it hissed as it spoke.

"Columbine, Columbine. You are supposed to be asleep. What are we to do with you?"

When I woke up, I had a blanket draped over me. I guess Lark must have woken up and noticed I hadn't come to bed. In spite of the nightmare, the fact that he's being so thoughtful made me feel a lot better.

But I still need to talk to him.

~ Day 5, Eve ~

Today did not go as expected.

I got home from work exhausted, like you do when you've done two day's work in a single afternoon on a couple of hours of restless sleep. When I walked in the door, Larkspur was already home. And this journal was sitting on the table in front of him. I was so tired that I must have left it on the coffee table this morning after writing in it last night. He must have found it there.

I had kind of expected him to be mad, but he wasn't. He was perfectly calm. He even smiled at me when he caught me blushing like a little filly who got caught passing notes in class. He told me I looked tired, and that I could probably use a nap. I wanted to argue, or explain myself, but he wasn't having it. He just wrapped one wing around me and led me into our bedroom. He told me he was going to take care of dinner, so I should try to get a little sleep, and we'd talk about things when I was rested.

I didn't have the willpower to refuse. The minute I got over to the bed, I just felt the weight of the day fall on me, and I was out just as my head hit the pillows.

I woke up later to the smell of neighponese fried hay - one of my favourites. I walked into the dining room to find a feast of delivery food on the table. Lark and Lem looked like they had already been into it for a while, and Lark just grinned at me and said he remembered how I always slept better on a full belly. Which is true, and it made me think that lately I haven't been eating very well. Count on Larkspur to catch the obvious problem instead of making mountains out of molehills like I've been doing.

So I ate, while he got Lem off to his room to start his homework. When he came back, we sat together and talked.

He apologized for all the hush-hush business. Then he gave me the good news - he got a promotion at work. Something about taking charge of resource management instead of being a delivery-pony. It was a huge surprise to me, because I always thought Lark liked the delivery business. He said he did, but he's been a delivery pony for ten years, and it was time for a change. When I asked about the overnight trip, he explained that he had been surveying the fields near the fens for a possible expansion into mushroom farming - that it was the project that landed him the job, in the end. But he'd had to do a lot of overtime to get the proposal done before the deadline.

He said how sorry he was that he hadn't told me. But there where four ponies chasing the promotion, and he hadn't been at all sure he was going to get it. He didn't want to get my hopes up for nothing. But that looking back, he'd gotten my hopes completely dashed instead, and that was all his fault. He said he was glad about this promotion, because it meant being around more to help me deal with my sleeping problems.

It was all just so sweet - the food, the good news, the way he tried to make sure everything was just so for me... I ended up getting all weepy, of course. We ended up curled up on the couch together like when we were first married, until Lem came and told us he was going to bed. Then the two of us headed the same direction. We lay together in the dark, and he told me about the new job - how it meant more time at home, and a bit of a raise. I asked him if he was going to miss being on the road, and he shook his head. He said that lately, he'd been missing home more than he liked the travelling. I told him I never thought I'd see the day, and he just laughed.

"Ponies change", he said.

It's so strange, how you can be with someone for years, and then just suddenly notice things. Like tonight, talking with him in bed. I'd never noticed the way that in the moonlight, the very tips of his feathers become translucent like they were made of sculpted glass. We've been married for over ten years now, but tonight was the first time I saw him that way. It was so unexpected.

Now he's standing over in the doorway, watching me write. The lantern-light is flickering, and it makes the blue of his eyes flicker a pale turquoise. It's entrancing. I feel almost like I'm seeing him for the first time. Everything is strange, but everything is so familiar.

For the first time in weeks, I'm not scared of going back to my bed. With him beside me, I feel certain that I can face the nightmares if they come.

~ The End ~

I think this will probably be the last entry I write in this journal. It's been two nights, and I've slept like a log both nights. I might not be writing it at all, but Lark said he wanted me to just lay down and relax while he "gets things ready". I'm not entirely sure what that entails, but I like the sounds of it. He's in the bathroom as I write this, mixing something in the bath-tub. It's foamy and green, and smells a little strange, but when I asked what he was doing he "shoo"ed me back in here, and told me to write instead of being a nosey-nose.

When I got home from work, I found a note from Lem saying he would be staying at his friend's house for the weekend. It seems his father helped him arrange it. When I asked, he just winked at me and said "well, I thought maybe you'd like a weekend with just the two of us".

He hasn't done anything this romantic in a long time. I never realized how much I've missed it until now. It's so easy to have things change for the worse without you noticing it. It happens all the time, and then one day you find yourself looking at yourself and your life, and wondering what happened to you. You keep expecting things to be like they were, not realizing that it's silly to think that way. You aren't the person you were ten years ago, and neither is anyone else.

Now, I'm looking at the new Larkspur. The one who just came into the room, spreading rose-petals on the floor leading from our bed towards the bathroom. The one who is leaning on the bed, smiling and watching me write just like he used to, when we were first dating and he'd watch me close the register at the shop I worked at before he swept me out for a night on the town. It's not the same as it was then - now, there's a kind of hunger that he didn't use to have. It's strange and exciting.

He's changed. And I've changed. But we're together, and for the first time in a very long time I look at him and see a stallion I'm ready to spend the rest of my life with. My heart has never been more full of hope, and I have never been so full of love.

No more nightmares. This night is going to be perfect.