The alarm by my bed read 2:30 A.M. With a heavy sigh, I rolled back over, staring up at the ceiling in disgust. It had been nearly five hours since I had gone to bed, and yet here I was, unable to fall asleep. The dull grey ceiling did not hypnotize me into slumber as I had hoped; and the numerous sheep I had counted and recorded did little to ease me into a peaceful sleep.
I wondered why it was that I could not get any sleep tonight. It was my second year away from home, in my own little house near the countryside. My parents had warned that it would feel different, sleeping in a different house, alone from any relative. And it had seemed that that warning came true during the first year, when I was practically begging myself to go home.
Nowadays, I had grown used to the sense of loneliness that came with the house. It felt comforting, secure in a way. It was the one thing I could count on the house being whenever I returned home from working on the nearby farm.
I sighed once more, glaring up at the ceiling. I knew I was tired, yet somehow I simply could not fall asleep. My mind was thinking too fast, unable to slow down to let me sleep. My muscles, though slack, were still capable of moving. My eyes strained against the darkness of the room, and I tried to take in every detail to bore my mind to sleep.
It was to no avail; I neither felt tired nor awake. I was in a state of limbo, between the cliffs of the conscious and the subconscious.
I wasn’t sure why, but something compelled me to grab the plushie by my bedside. I placed it in front of me, quietly observing it. It was in the shape of an equine, with a butterscotch coat and a pink mane. I couldn’t recall its origin, but I did remember why I got it.
I smiled as I remembered. It was a little over a year ago, nearing the end of my first year away from home. I had returned home one day, and had switched on the television to relax after a stressful day at the farm. I had started flicking through channels, looking for something to watch, when my gaze fell on a little show for little girls. My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic, the title had read. I wasn’t sure why, but the title intrigued me, and I found myself watching a few episodes.
The next day, without any embarrassment, I had mentioned watching the show to the farmer’s wife, and she had laughed with me on the absurdity. When she asked me which character I liked the most, I answered the shy pegasus one—Fluttershy. She had seemed to take this into consideration, and said to come back the next day for a surprise. Naturally, I had been curious, but agreed to return later on.
When I did, she had presented me with the character in plushie form. She had always been a skilled plush maker, and the look of delight on my face signaled her incredible talent. I thought I should pay her for it, but she waved away my gratitude, saying that it was her gift to me for working so hard on her and her husband’s farm. That, and, she found it kind of funny that I was enjoying the same show her grandchild was enjoying.
My smile faded as did my memories, and I was once again left in my dark room, staring at the plushie in my hand. Some nights, when I was very tired, I would hug the plushie close, and it would somehow lull me into a peaceful sleep. Now, though, it seemed that its power over Hypnos had vanished.
I let go of the plushie, feeling disappointed. The sense of wonder that I had gotten from it a year ago had also gone, and it had become little more than a given around here. Sure, it was an inanimate object; but back then, it had a life of its own, fueled by the happiness that I had gotten from the show.
I sighed. So much for sleep. All I’ve got are melancholy thoughts.
My sad mood was replaced with confusion when I heard a knock on the door. My room was built next to the front, so sound traveled rather easily through the wall that separated me. At first, I thought I was hearing things in my sleep-deprived state; when I heard another knock, this one much clearer, I was certain I was going insane.
The fact that I lived in the middle of nowhere only heightened my suspicion that I was losing my sense of reality.
Then again, there really could be someone at the door.
I groaned. It seemed stupid; who would ever knock at such an hour? Probably some psycho out for my blood.
I shifted my body out of the bed, licking dry lips with a parched tongue. In my semi-comatose state, I didn’t think about calling the police about a possible nightly intruder. All I could think about was getting to the door and…
Wow. I clearly have not thought this through…
What would I do next? What if it was a family of fugitives, running from an oppressed country? What if it were a band of runaway slaves from the west coast? How could I turn away any of them?
I must be really tired to be thinking about heroic deeds right now.
I shook my head, fighting back my fatigue. I made my way into the hall, approaching the door carefully. The knocking had stopped, and I was unsure if whoever knocked was even still there. I reached a hand out for the doorknob cautiously, prepared to either tackle or run away from whatever stood on the other side.
I twisted it and, prepared for the worst, cracked open the door.
What met me was a strange creature.
It wore blue pajamas that were adorned with light stars, with a hood on the back. It clutched a stuffed bunny in its right hoof—yes, hoof—and had a pair of feathery wings on its back. It stared at me with impossible huge cerulean eyes, and its mouth had morphed into a slightly nervous frown. As I looked at the creature in shock, I realized that it resembled a small horse; a pony, almost. In fact, it closely resembled a certain butterscotch pegasus—
I blinked. No, that couldn’t be true. It simply couldn’t.
Before I could question the creature, it spoke up in a small, female voice: “Um… I-I had a nightmare… c-can I sleep with you?” She looked away, and her voice grew even softer. “I-if th-that’s alright with you, that is…”
I blinked again. No. This couldn’t be real. I had to have been dreaming or hallucinating.
I knelt down, eyes wide, and examined her with growing curiosity. She didn’t seem any more shy under my curious gaze. Butterscotch coat, pink hair, cerulean eyes, and a soft, meek voice… If this is a prank, it’s a great one at that.
“Um… are you okay?” she asked.
No, I am not okay. I am likely insane, and have fallen into my own personal utopian hell. I opened my mouth to speak—
—but was cut off by my own yawn.
I blushed a little at how loud it was, and Fluttershy giggled slightly. I realized that I was still feeling immensely tired. I tried to speak again, but was cut off by another yawn.
You know what? Screw it. I’m too tired to start questioning universe-barrier-breaking rules at the moment. If she’s real and here, then so be it. If not; then so be it.
I opened the door a little more and stepped to the side, gesturing her inside. She tentatively took a few steps forward, giving me a slightly unsure look. I tried to reassure her with a tired, but genuine smile, which she returned.
I led her to my room and turned on the nearby desk lamp to provide light. I helped her onto the bed and pulled the covers over her. She nestled in comfortably, and I nearly squeed out loud at the sheer cuteness.
I smiled. Illusion or not, this Fluttershy was still cute as heck.
I turned to leave, once the pegasus had settled. I intended to move to the couch for the night.
“Wait…”
I paused, glancing back over my shoulder. I said nothing, but my gaze prompted her to continue.
“I-I’m scared of being alone… could you… would you…”
I smiled again, walking back over. She moved over, making a little room for me, and I crawled in, doing my best not to infringe upon her personal space.
“Thank you… Andy…”
Yep. Definitely an illusion. I didn’t even tell her my name.
Despite this, I found myself grinning slightly. I glanced over, and saw that she had already fallen asleep, her hooves wrapped around my arm, and her right wing hugging my waist. Her stuffed bunny rested by her side.
Soon, I felt the familiar effects of Hypnos settle in. I welcomed them in earnest, and fell into a peaceful darkness, my last thought filled with a gentle happiness of a certain butterscotch pegasus.
The quiet chirping of my alarm woke me up. I glanced at it through bleary eyes, seeing that it read 5:30. I was supposed to be at the farm in an hour.
I quickly shuffled out of bed, before remembering the night before. I glanced back at the covers, hoping to see the form of the pegasus. I let out a sigh of slight disappointment as I saw that she wasn’t there.
I went through my daily routine, putting on my work clothes and having a quick breakfast. As I finished brushing my teeth, my thoughts continued drifting back to the night.
She wasn’t real, I told myself. Just something I hallucinated in my sleep deprived state.
For some reason, this saddened me. I shook off the feeling and rinsed my mouth, returning back to my room to grab the last of my belongings.
As I stooped to grab my bag, my eyes drifted over to the center of the room, and I froze in shock.
There, next to the pony plushie, was a familiar stuffed bunny. I grabbed it, holding it in front of me, unable to believe it.
Gradually, a smile grew across my face, and I set the bunny down next to the pegasus. I slung my bag over my shoulder, and the plushies seemed to share my smile.
I shook my head, incredulous—yet strangely happy. I gave the plushies a little wave, and walked out.
Unbeknownst to me, the plushies waved back.
