When I woke up in the dark, the only thing I could make out was a sliver of moonlight, peeking through the curtains and reflected off of the dresser mirror. My heart began to calm, the afterimages of some nightmare fading from my mind as I kept my eyes focused on the moonlight. Slowly, they began to adjust to the dark, and the other features of the room came into focus: the wall, the bedside table, the dresser and the doorway next to it.
I shifted under the covers, and rolled to lay on my back. While I shifted my hooves about, I looked up at the ceiling, and watched the hanging lamp shift slightly in the dark. The creaking began to reach my ears, along with the faint shifting of the boutique in the night. What had I been dreaming to wake me with… not a start, but in a panic? I let one hoof rest over my heart, breathing slowly as the hammering faded.
Closing my eyes, I tried to remember. There was screaming, panting, running, or at least the impressions of them. A feeling of being watched, or perhaps chased? Nothing else came to mind. It had slipped from memory so quickly, like a seam if the thread were pulled just right, or wrong, depending on the intention.
My throat felt dry, and even though my panic had passed, sleep seemed like a distant goal. Instead of laying there for who knows how long, I took my chances and pulled the covers back before sliding out of bed. A glass of cool water couldn’t hurt.
As soon as my hooves were on the ground, I found the doorway and made my way over. Even if the shape were easy to discern in the dark, I didn’t want to risk stumbling over something. Soon, I reached the door and opened it.
The hallway felt cold. Unreasonably so, given that I’d left the heater on downstairs. It had been giving me some trouble over the past month. The thought entered my mind that it had given out in the night, letting the autumn air seep through the walls. But then I heard the sound of wind, and a… cricket? I wasn’t unaccustomed to hearing them when burning the midnight oil, but they were never this loud with the windows shut.
The noises were coming from downstairs. Had I forgotten to shut one of the windows? It was a bit stuffy earlier in the day, and the showroom needed a little bit of air, but I could swear I’d shut them. I stood there in the hallway for a few moments, before sighing and making my way to the stairs. There was water downstairs as well, at least.
The trip downstairs was slow in the dark, one hoof at a time, with only a bit of light from my horn to guide me. When I reached the bottom of the stairs, I could hear the rustling of fabric. One of the windows was certainly open if the curtains were moving that much.
I made my way to the kitchen first, the noise growing distant, and trotted over to the sink. The light was a bit better here, moonlight pouring in from the windows. It was enough for me to cancel the light spell, and I calmly filled a glass. In the moments between turning off the faucet and taking a sip, I had the strangest recollection.
I remembered my routine before bed a bit more clearly, along with the day. Business had been a bit under expectations. I was feeling rather down, a few dresses going unpurchased when I was sure I knew the right ones for my clients. Then I’d managed to injure myself during sewing. It was a harmless thing in the end, really, just a prick on my cheek when I’d been distracted. It hardly even hurt, but it had blemished my complexion.
My mood was sour. I just wanted to forget the entire day and go to bed. On my way into my bedroom, cleaning my face, I’d tossed the towel over the dresser mirror. I remember it blocked the entire thing.
I kept still. I swallowed the water in my mouth, and set the glass down gently on the counter. The air was still, and the boutique was quiet. Deathly quiet. Then, there was a creak on the stairwell.
I did the only thing I could. I ran to the back door in the kitchen and threw it open. I galloped out into the streets, screaming. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but I couldn’t be blamed.
Twilight managed to come quickly. I’ll admit my explanation was a little less than helpful. There was a lot of rambling about stairs and a mirror as I waved frantically at the boutique. She waited until someone else came out to check on me so that Spike didn’t have to watch me alone.
It took her some time to come back. She said that there was nopony inside, but she did find something. It was a kitchen knife, at the base of the stairs. It was one of mine.
I asked to stay with Twilight for the night, and she agreed. It took me more time than I realized or dared to get to sleep. I couldn't shake the feeling that I knew I had locked my windows.
In the morning as I approached the boutique, my eyes were drawn to the large entrance door, and then to the curtains swaying just inside of the window to its left. Beneath the windowsill, a patch of the flower bed was trampled.
It took some time to steel myself and approach the window. It was open only barely, imperceptibly so from afar. The lock was undamaged, and unlatched.