If I Could Sleep

     One dark and creepy night, in little Insomniac's room, something weird was going on. He normally couldn't sleep for a maximum of nine hours, then crashed for the night. Tonight, he couldn't sleep at all. His head would hit the pillow, but then he would get up again and walk around. What's going on? He looked to his closet warily, making sure that nothing was there. He sighed, dismissing it as childish paranoia. See, Insomniac is a very intelligent unicorn colt, he just didn't sleep well at night. He could always sleep, though. Even if it was a just little bit, he would always be able to sleep.

     He trotted to the living room of his bare, one-story house, and went to an ottoman with a removable top. The room was dimly illuminated by a soft, amber glow, and Insomniac fished around for a flashlight. He didn't like to use his horn for light because it was a bit too taxing. Using magic for a long period of time gave him a headache. When he found the bulky blue flashlight his dad kept for work, he levitated it up and clicked it on. Putting it up to his mouth and biting down on it, he shined it around.

     Trotting around his house slowly, the grey unicorn colt tried to keep his composure. Every once in a while, he would catch something move in the corner of his eye. When he would turn the flashlight to see what it was, he found nothing but walls or doors. It's just a case of mid-night paranoia, yes? He continued to walk around his house, almost like a patrol dog at a prison. His flashlight flickered and dimmed.

     His eyes widening in fear, he took up the flashlight in his magic again. He shook it lightly, and it returned to full radience. He sighed audibly and returned it to his mouth, continuing to walk.

     He could hear the wind howling outside the windows. The fur on the back of his neck prickled as he imagined a cold breath on his back. He turned, pupils dilated to the point of pinpricks. Nothing there. He shook his head. Childish paranoia, he thought. Returning to his patrol he tried to imagine why he couldn't sleep. His head tilted slightly left as he thought about this. Once again, he felt the cold breath on his back. This time, he dismissed it.

     Soon, his mind began to wander. He started thinking of things that normal ponies would never even dream of. He saw himself, horn dripping blood, smiling at an blue pegasus pony. The blue pegasus was against the wall, shivering and slowly losing consciousness from blood loss and shock. Insomniac was laughing hysterically, the blood dripping down the right side of his face. The colt shook his head to get rid of the thought. His flashlight flickered again, and he saw himself in the darkness again, his pupils dilated and blood running down his face. When his flashlight turned back on, he saw that it was nothing.

     He gulped, and looked around frantically. In the corner of his left eye, he saw a flash of white. Whirling to face it, he saw nothing. He blinked, then sighed. His flashlight turned off.

     Yelping, he backed up and dropped the dead flashlight. He backed up against the wall, sitting down. He saw himself, but white, slowly walking toward him. His amber eyes were dilated to the point of pinpricks again, driven mad by his lack of sleep. White Insomniac laughed maniacally, and Real Insomniac quivered in fear. White charged him, and Insomniac flinched. He felt White's horn peirce through his left foreleg, and he gasped in pain. White pulled back, the jabbed foward, aiming for the chest. He hit directly on target, blood erupting from the wound. White's once amber eyes faded, and became sockets of pure white. He chuckled, and seemingly looked down at Insomniac. "Are you scared, foal?" White said in a booming voice that was still his.

     Insomniac could hardly answer. "Y-yes," he said quietly, gasping for air. His lung had been punctured when White had stabbed him for the second time.

     "You should be." White grinned and turned away from Insomniac. "Because you're about to die." He trotted away into the darkness.

     Insomniac could hardly breathe anymore. His good hoof clutched his wound in his chest. He tried to scan around for anything to help him, but his efforts were futile. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and blood poured out of his fatal wounds. His vision dimmed, and Insomniac blacked out.

~~~~~~~~~~~

     Delta woke up screaming, her two cuts gone and the flashlight still in the living room. The dreams were becoming more and more frequent. What do they mean? she thought. The lady at the psychiatrist said that she had a gift. What gift? What could she do that was special? She got out of bed and stood on her four hooves. These dreams are scary, she thought, going into the kitchen to make breakfast. She decided not to think about the dream for the rest of the day. Besides, the toast was almost ready.

     The psychiatrist told her to keep those thoughts out of her mind until she went to her daily visits. Delta liked her psychiatrist, even if she could get a bit weird every now and then. She would zone out, stop talking for a little while, and this would always scare the filly. Her psychiatrist said that she was special, that she had a gift. Her dreams could show her things that have happened, are happening, and will happen. Was she a fortune teller? No. Was she a time traveler? No. Then why did she have those dreams? Delta didn't know. Her psychiatrist seemed to know. Then why difn't she tell her?

     "You aren't ready," said Delta's psychiatrist. "When you're older, i'll tell you what they mean."

     "But I want to know now!" Delta whined. "They're scaring me!"

     Her psychiatrist would comfort her. She would tell her it would all be okay. But Delta knew it was not okay. She knew nothing about the dreams, yet she knew why they haplened. She was special.

     She'll just have to wait until she's older.