//------------------------------// // Night Seven. // Story: Insomniac // by Phoenix Quill //------------------------------// Dear Diary, I think that it's been a week? I am not certain by any means except by looking back at the records in this diary. After going to the spa, I still find my back is aching by my flanks, so I saw the doctor about it. She suggested that I should move more, that I'm not getting enough exercise after my bout with the illness. But it's so hard! Ever since I came down with the plague that was moving around, I'll admit I was bedridden for that, but now I can't hardly move three buildings away from home before I feel like I need a seat. Rarity wiped some beads of sweat from her brow as she put down the quill. She was standing while writing, and as if to emphasize the point, her hip groaned in protest to the position. She tried to stretch her leg out only for another unsatisfying and painful click to be heard. She looked out the window and saw that the sun had long set, but there was little difference to her at the moment because the snow that had been threatened for a few weeks now had finally began to fall steadily to the ground. Somewhere in the distance she heard foals singing the Equestrian anthem as Hearths Warming Eve was just around the corner. Rarity took a few clumsy steps around the room and was soon finding herself short of breath a lot sooner than she'd expected. She soon gave into the pain, and sat down back at the table to keep writing. There's a hopeful feeling in the air as Hearths Warming comes around. Everypony is going about with how thankful they are for what they have, and I am grateful for all I have as well, but if I were to wish for anything personally, it's to get back to where I was just a month ago. There was a strange clicking coming from behind her, and Rarity turned to look. She saw there in the corner of her room a shadow moving swiftly away from a corner before disappearing into an air vent. She shuddered and continued to write. Hallucinations are beginning to get worse, I was warned about this from the doctor that lack of sleep catches up one way or the other. Normally such things aren't a bother for ponies, but being a unicorn, I've heard rumors that magical dispersal can occur from such a state as mine. Five days ago, Rarity heard as much from Twilight when she went to see her. It was one of the worst visits she could remember in recent memory. She showed up slumped over, leaning against whatever wall she could to try to support her weight and sobbing. "It's just not fair Twilight," Rarity cried as she lay on one side. I haven't slept for two nights in a row now, and I'm starting to feel like I'm being ripped apart in my bed!" Twilight held a small light up to Rarity's eye and looked into her pupils. "Tell me, have you been seeing anything that is keeping you awake, or any irrational thoughts when you try to sleep?" "Well no," Rarity said with a little hesitation. "I mean, I thought I saw a shadow move last night, but it could have been the flame dancing in my lamps for all I know." Twilight didn't react to that as she pulled what looked like a colander with light bulbs and wires attached to it at several points. She floated it over to Rarity and strapped it onto her head. "I thought you had electric light," Twilight stated as she plugged some wires into a bulky machine. "In fact, you invited us all over a few months ago to brag about how wonderful it is, and how it lights everything better." Rarity scoffed and turned her nose up at that. "A lady does not brag, and it just so happens that I like to use oil lamps in my private chambers when I'm not working. It saves on the electric bill." Twilight didn't acknowledge her as she flipped a switch and the machine hummed to life, with lights blinking and a pen slowly moving left and right over a slowly feeding roll of paper. "What pray tell is that?" "This machine is going to be reading your brainwave and magical field patterns to determine if there's anything unusual we should be looking for, if there's any stress related magical discharge going on, that sort of thing." She then looked at Rarity and asked, "Didn't your physician test these when you saw her yesterday?" Rarity shook her head a few times, making one of the pencils, the green one, waggle left and right on the paper. "I haven't seen her yet, because I found this when I came out of my... whatever it was, trance?" She floated over her Diary to Twilight where she saw the writing from that morning. "I don't remember writing it, I found it after some sort of a fit." Suddenly, Rarity found herself sitting strangely, her back to the wall, knees to her barrel, and her forelegs wrapped around her rear legs. "Was I asleep?" She asked out loud to herself. She was back in her room, her quill behind an ear and her diary still open on the floor a few feet away from her. foolish filly, she chided herself. you manage to pass out finally only to dream about a few days ago. She thought about it for a moment or so longer before unwrapping her legs and getting up. "Was that a dream? Or more of a memory hole?" She looked around the room and saw that at some point she'd crafted a rather ugly doll out of scrap rags. "I don't remember that," she said as she turned it over. Suddenly, in a flash she did remember. It was only a few hours ago when she decided to make a doll for Sweetie Belle only, "Why would I? She's too grown up for such toys now." She studied the doll for a few moments longer, it's uneven button eyes, and a crooked smile stitched of red thread. One corner wasn't quite finished, and some was dangling, almost like... She shivered, the clown like cloth that made up the clothes of the doll, and the droop of red in one corner of the mouth was too much like the mouth of a predator on a pony for her. A predator that just ate somepony, and he found her delicious. Rarity muffled a small scream as she put the doll down and walked away. She blinked and found herself in the kitchen. She blinked again and found herself halfway through a tub of ice-cream and a cup of tea. "Woah," Rarity said in a voice very different from her own, sounding more like one of those ponies that hang out on the beach all the time rather than the successful owner of a fashion enterprise. She put down the tub of ice-cream and tried to not blink. "I need to take control here," she mumbled to herself. She blinked. Rarity stretched and yawned deeply as the alarm clock rang without mercy. It was time to get up.