Jazz should've been asleep by now. It was ten minutes past midnight, and the sounds of Stableside snoring pervaded what little safety she felt she had left.
She was beginning to get worried. A little frightened, even. A small bug was skittering around in her chest, hopping and flying about as if it was the end of the world. Surely, it wouldn’t happen to her tonight. There was just no possible way. Her doubts lacked reason and logic, but she still didn’t stop thinking them. The longer she lied in that bed -- in the menacing darkness -- the more awake and aware she became. She found that the more she asked, the more her world decided to enforce it's twisted form of destiny upon her feeble soul.
Jazz wanted to be in her own little world. She wanted to be buried up in her head in falsified reality, another meaningless dream that would plow its way through her brain like a scorched bullet. She wanted to feel nothing at all. She wanted to pass out, and wake up feeling tired, yet rejuvenated, and knowing that she had survived the Townsend that year -- like she always had.
Townsend. The single word kept floating in and out of her mind, like a sailboat caught between land, and a roaring tidal wave. She hated it. She hated that word with every fiber in her being. That word brought on nothing but worry and panic. It brought on sadness, and a strange kind of depression that not even she could describe. The ignorant bliss that the world had been so accustomed to over hundreds of years worth of occurrences fell silent upon Jazz's ears.
Jazz was lying on her right side in her bed. Her eyes were clamped shut so hard, it started to hurt her head. She was starting to get desperate, even though it was only a few minutes past midnight. But she had a good excuse. Everypony knew the rules of the Townsend. You must be asleep no later than midnight the night it begins. Everypony knew that, even the little children who partook in the celebration in good cheer. But even since a child, the night brought nothing but stress and anxiety.
But there she was, still awake, and trying so very hard not to have a heart attack.
She turned over, lying on her left side and facing the white wall of her bedroom. What if she never fell asleep? She heard the rumors. The ones that tell the tales of those who were unfortunate enough to stay awake that dreaded night.
Her parents had warned her, so very long ago. She regretted ever being told.
The Townsend was a strange phenomenon, that was for sure. It took place once every year, and started on the same day. It lasted a full week. Jazz was told everything, how the first night of the Townsend, the Great Slumber, was to be celebrated hours before with a monstrous feast, and fun and games. Even hours ago, Jazz partook in it. Her stomach was still slightly engorged after a dinner of salad and various desserts for no other reason than to help her fall asleep.
She did not find the games and food to be entertaining in the slightest. She only viewed this as a futile way to embrace the unknown, something nopony understood. The Townsend.
During the week, everypony slept. It was strange. Nopony knew why, but it happened. It just did. When you wake up the following week during The Awakening, it’s as if nothing had ever happened. Just another day. It made Jazz sick to think about. Nopony ever figured out why they all slept during that week. Nopony wanted to either. It was just another reason to celebrate. Another reason to see family and friends -- another reason to stay blind.
Jazz had also heard the rumors.
She turned over again. She let out a small grunt. Fifteen minutes. Was she ever going to fall asleep? She dug her face deeper into the pillow, and felt her dark brown mane press against her face, tickling her. It irritated Jazz, but she couldn’t be worried by that. She had more pressing things to be irritated about.
She needed to get to sleep immediately. She didn’t want to end up the the rest of the ponies who had failed to fall comatose during the Townsend. No, not at all.
But… she couldn’t. She wasn’t even tired. Not even a little bit. It was hopeless, but she refused to believe that. She was afraid to get out of bed. Getting out of bed would mean that she accepts it, her fate. It would mean that she could officially declare that she broke the rules of the Townsend, and didn’t fall asleep in the allotted time, even though she had been lying in that bed for the last three hours.
Why her? She wasn’t a bad pony -- not by any means. She was liked by her friends and community, had a decent relationship with her family. She even had a cute stallion of whom she had her eye on. Life was going swimmingly, so why was fate trying to take it all away from her? Is it because of the things she thought? The way she would go about her life as if it was one giant joke? She didn’t know.
Her golden-colored eyes snapped open. There were pierced through the darkness like a sewing needle. Even at a distance of a few feet, Jazz could still see the reflection of her eyes in the mirror on her vanity on the other side of the room. It was eerie, in fact, most of her friends told her that using the exact same words. However, that was irrelevant.
Her room was very bare, only containing the essentials that she needed for everyday life: a closet full of accessories, a bed for resting, and a vanity. She was never one for pointless money laundering like her friends. In actuality, the room made her look downright poor considering that she has more than enough money tucked away somewhere for college.
She had to get up. Her stupid brain just would not relax itself. She had no choice but to give in and accept her fate, her imminent disappearance from the world as she knew it. Nopony would ever see her again… should the rumors she heard be true. She sniffled lightly, quickly remembering that being quiet wasn't very important anymore.
There was a window on the wall, nearest the foot of her bed. Moonlight slogged in, providing her very little light. It was a very cloudy night, after all. Whenever she would step in the moon rays at night, her bright blue coat almost seemed to shine.
She let out a small groan, and sat up. It was game over. It was time. She was never an optimist, nor was that the time to be one. Her heart was beating so fast, it resembled the rumblings of a train. She couldn’t stop shivering. What was to happen now? She had always wanted to know, but not this way. She wasn't ready to die. She had never truly thought about the afterlife. She never knew what to believe.
She was scared witless. She didn’t know what to do. Should she go walk around? Should she just stay in bed and keep trying to sleep even though it was pointless and not worth trying? Perhaps she should call to her roommate. The thought of actually raising her voice actually terrified her more. But… what if Crest was awake too? Perhaps they could comfort each other. Jazz could really use some kind and even humorous words right about then.
Before she had unwisely given herself any more time to think, she threw the covers off of her, and was instantly hit with a nail biting chill. It was if Death himself was perched upon her shoulder. She spasmodically shivered again, and tried her best to keep her teeth from chattering. It took but a few seconds until her body embraced the cold, and she could continue.
She tiptoed over to the door. It was closed. She carefully turned the handle, and winced when the door made a much louder noise than she would have preferred.
It was much too silent. Inside the house, and outside. It quickened her heartbeat. She was tempted to do something, anything, to draw attention away from the quietness. She contemplated turning on a radio, but deemed that a horrible idea for reasons she didn’t really know. Perhaps her intuition and common sense was still intact, for all she knew. It was fortunate that her mild fear of the dark kept her from doing anything too rash.
“C-C-Crest?” Jazz’s voice came out as nothing more than a whisper. No way her roommate could have heard that, should she even be awake. Each year, somewhere between ten and thirty ponies go missing among all of Equestria. The rumors had always said that those who don't fall asleep are the ones who disappear, but it has never been proven true. The chances that Jazz and Crest, roommates in the same household, disappear during the same Townsend are next to nil. Equestria was quite populous. Her hopes died just a little bit, along with her courage.
Jazz gulped, and it hurt. She didn’t exactly know what to do. Trusting her instincts, she forced herself to take a left, and head down the hallway towards her friend. She didn’t wish to be alone anymore. Her hoofsteps felt as if they were being echoed along the not just the hallway, but the world. Her mind was a flurry of doubts, stress, and restlessness. She couldn't keep a straight thought in her mind even if she wanted to.
Jazz reached Crest’s room in a matter of seconds, golden eyes in a sea of black despair. They moved in a seemingly random and quick manner. “Crest?” Jazz’s normally husky and thick voice was reduced to nothing but a shell of its former self. “Hello…? Please answer me.”
She knocked on the door, once. Nothing. Once more. No reply. Jazz opened the door anyways.
Crest’s white face was rested on her pillow on the other side of the room. Her eyes were sleep, and her chest rose and descended like some kind of sick metronome. Her short, green mane was strewn about. She looked exactly how Jazz wished herself could had looked. Why did Crest get to fall asleep during the Townsend, and not her? Jazz's revelations suddenly came forth from the muddy wasteland that was her brain. What would Crest think when she woke up one week later and realized that her best friend was gone?
Jazz felt like crying. She had so much to see, and do. She couldn’t disappear. She just didn’t want to. All of her fears in life had prepared her for this very moment, as if her destiny was to experience true terror at its finest.
What was she to do now?
The clock on Crest’s wall read 12:33 AM. Jazz probably would have stood there until the sun came up.
But then everything turned red.
It was odd. It was as if Jazz had merely blinked, and it all changed. It caused her to yelp, very loudly. The moonlight that had been coming through Crest’s window was now tinted a bright red, the color of rose petals and blood. The walls were tinted crimson, the floor, even Crest’s white body. It was as if somepony had put a red sheet of paper in front of the dazzling moon.
After Jazz had regained her composure, which only took about ten minutes of hysterical panting and wheezing, she stopped. What was going on? With her heart leaping out of her chest, she practically crawled over to the window. She peeked her head outside, shaking so hard that her mane was having difficulty coming to rest. Her body was shivering horrendously, and her mouth tasted of iron. At some point, she had bit onto her lip -- hard.
She gasped at what she saw. The moon was gone, the clouds were gone. The silent streets of Stableside were unlit, untouched, untreated. The sky itself was a unified block of color. It looked down upon the world, as if it was bleeding for Jazz and it alone.