//------------------------------//
// Prolouge: Dreams 
// Story: Memories 
// by Sun Aura 
//------------------------------//

	I walked down the halls of a castle, wondering why this seemed so familiar. I felt taller, like I was hovering, but my hooves were firmly on the ground. I saw the night sky out the windows, more beautiful than I ever remembered it being. There was not just darkness, but blues and purples in the sky. I heard the stars twinkle in the silence. 
I made my way to the throne room. I saw the moonlight glint off of the thrones at the back of the room. Everything was decorated, as if there would be a party tomorrow. Balloons were tied on vases and tables, streamers had been strategically placed along the walls and archways. I wondered what the celebration was for.
Suddenly, the room became cold. I felt a sharp pain go through my body, like it occasionally did. Yet is was more intense than usual. I watched a pony walk toward me. Why were they here? Nopony should have been awake at this hour. I wanted to scream, but I could not. Pain and fear blocked my voice. I knew what would happen now, I knew that when the ponies walked in for this party tomorrow, they would only find me. 

I felt something cold and hard press into my throat.

I bolted upward in my bed, gasping for breath. I could still feel the pain. I felt the fear. I could feel something against my throat. I looked around. I was back in my bed, I was safe. But I could not shake the feeling that dream was not just a dream. It felt too real.
I lit the lamp in my room, and checked to see if somepony was here with me. Nothing. I relaxed a little bit, but not enough as I should. I took in the familiarity of my room. Red walls, dark green carpet, a set of bookshelves covering one wall. Red was probably a bad paint choice for nights like this. 
I took my blankets and walked into the kitchen. At first, I checked the fridge, but my curiosity got the best of me. I magicked open a drawer and brought out a large knife. I pressed it into my own throat, careful not to cut anything. It felt just like in the dream. 
I gasped and dropped the knife. The clatter of metal on tiles startled me back to reality. Nothing could hurt me here. My dreams, or nightmares, are not real. Whoever that pony was, they would not visit me in this realm.
I kept telling myself it was just that. A dream. But part of me wondered about it. Dream Catcher had once told me that our dreams can only use places we have been and faces we have seen. That was not anywhere I had been. Right? I am alive, so I had not been killed. Had I?