Thirty Minute Pony Stories

I really need some sleep.

Twilight pressed her face into her mattress, with her pillow covering her head. Then she rolled over and threw the pillow over the side of the bed.

Why? If I go to sleep, I’m just going to have that same nightmare again.

She threw her blankets over the other side and climbed out, touching her hooves to the floor as softly as possible. She brushed the spines on her curled up sleeping dragon as she left.

If she went to sleep, she was going to have that nightmare again: the nightmare where she wakes up in her bed in Canterlot, and her mother tells her that it was all a bad dream, the mourning wasn’t real, she didn’t really die. Then when she woke up in Ponyville, and realized her mother really was dead, she would sob.

Maybe this is the nightmare. Maybe this is all a nightmare I’m having in Canterlot. Listen to me—it’s been going on so long I can’t even tell what’s a dream and what’s real.

Feeling her way through the darkness, Twilight made her way to the fridge, opened it, and eyed the colas and iced teas inside. Then she closed it again, got a glass from the cupboard and filled it up with tap water.

Mom was the one who tried to connect with me. I remember, every year, she would think of something different to do for me on my birthday. But I was never interested. I always wanted to read my books in peace, and I always treated my birthday parties like chores I had to get through.

Suddenly, Twilight lifted her glass as if to hurl it at the wall, but she fell face-down onto the kitchen table instead, weeping.

I’m sorry, mom. I always thought we could do something about it later. I kept thinking we had more time.

With her head laying on the side of the table, Twilight stared into the water in her glass, a quarter full because of the sudden motion she had made before.Twilight remembered reading about the meaning of dreams, that one could glean messages from one’s subconscious if they only know how to interpret them. If Twilight was really asleep in Canterlot, then this whole ordeal looked like a dream her subconscious cooked up to tell her to spend more time with her mother.

Look at yourself, Twilight.

What?

Look at yourself. It’s been a week since she died, and every night has been like this. You know this is no dream; you can’t keep living hoping that it is. Why did you not hurl that glass at the wall?

Because it would wake Spike.

Exactly. You need to remember the ones who still love you, and still need you, in this world. The waking world.

Twilight turned her head face down into the wood.

You can get through this, Twilight. You just need to keep it together, you hear me? Keep. It. Together.

——

Obscure Comments:

Ooh, a kinda dark take on the prompt, but also an uplifting one! I love Twilight’s determination at the end, in the face of her despair. She needs to remember that there’s she still has tons of loved ones and that they’re all there for her. Good job!