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// Anonymous Message 
// Story: One Life, Two People 
// by Fort Impression 
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Disclaimer: I do not own anything featured in this story, other than the creativity of the OC Pony himself and the ideas behind the story. Otherwise, everything else is not mine, even my life. Right now, it is officially owned by Death, but I can still write, or type in this case.

Author's Note: Hey, this is Soto Konoha! This is my first fimfiction, so any comments on improvements are very much appreciated to help me improve for more stories to come, and chapters. Okay, I am done wasting your time, so here is the story, enjoy it, and please don't go easy.
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One Life, Two People


Anonymous Message
Looking at Earth from space, people can describe it in many ways. Fertile, green, peaceful, the perfect place to live. Everyone would stare in awe at the luscious, yet gentle, green of the land as it is surrounded by the calm oceans of the navy blue sea. Watching as the white clouds engulf everything, blending it together creating what is known to be a powerful force of nature. This place, where the humans live, is the most beautiful planet anyone could lay their eyes on, but it cannot be considered the same when seen up close.

The planet that the humans live on resembles the Gilded Age. It has this magnificent, bronze plating covering it, showing off how beautiful it looks, but when someone scratches away at the bronze, they are left with this plaster that, if shown, would make the world an ugly place to live. Trees were being chopped down by the second, economy going bad, citizens were getting poor, and the poor were getting poorer. There were many problems going on this globe, but there have been some good times where their problems would not get in their way. When ever these amazing events occurs, the citizens would gather with their parents and family, and they would all celebrate, and thank, for having everything that they have and for being alive.... except for him.

Unlocking the two locks on the door with a blood-stained key, the door made a click and swung open. Walking through the hallway, littered with clothes and empty bags of chips, the kid made his way towards the guest bathroom. Walking past the living room, it clearly has not been cleaned in years. The table was over taken by take-out food, leaving not a single inch of room to put anything else on it. The floor wasn't any better with more than just, yet, more clothes and food, which laid in a path that could be assumed to be his walking path, but also laid a number of blunt instruments, a large pile of tangled cords, and what is left of an Insignia 42 inch flat screen plasma television. Making his way to the bathroom, he threw his jacket on the couch and littered his shoes in a spot where there wasn't a mess. Opening the mirror cabinet of the bathroom, he began to sing Volatile Times by IAMX as he laid out some gauze, bandages, a cup of water, some Hydrogen Peroxide, and wrapping tape. He started cleaning the cuts and scratches on his peach-tanned skin, pouring Hydrogen Peroxide on the wound, not minding the burning sensation as is clears it of bacteria, and put band-aides over the cleaned cuts. Working shampoo in his black and red hair to get whatever blood might have fallen inside. With that, leaving his hair in a wet, ratty mess, he went back to the living room.

Grabbing a Coke, a family size bag of Lays, and the home phone along the way, he planted himself on the only clean spot on the couch. Opening the bag of chips and soda, the guy turned the phone on to listen to the voice messages left by most family and stupid advertisers. "Four new message," the voice mail always said before reading off each message. "First new message from Ranger Konoha, sent on January 20, 2012: Hey bro, Happy Birthday! I sent you a present and a message to your email. I hope you are doing alright, you haven't called in four years, and I am starting to get worried. I am fixing to try and--" The message was cut off by a single press of the delete button. "Next new message from Mom--" Right as it said those three letters the message was immediately erased from the phone. "Next new message from phone number 1-800--" Delete. "Next knew message from phone number 702-612-9476, sent on February 20, 2012: Hey punk, you still got 200 bucks that you owe me. Remember I know where you live god dammit, if you don't give me my money by the end of the week, I will fuck you up. You will be lucky that I will keep--" Delete. He simply groaned at the messages and pulled out his laptop from under a pile of Chinese take-out, watching as the containers all fell to the floor, and the empty space replaced with more junk food.

As the laptop came alive, the desktop came to show a few icons such as Maple Story, Adobe Photoshop, Audition, Premier, and a bunch of other random icons. Opening Google Chrome, and going to his MSN account, he check his messages to see what other bullshit was sent to him. Showing the first twenty-five message of the 27 new ones he had, the first one was from his brother. He went to delete it, but was stopped by his own free will, and he placed in in a folder of a bunch of unread messages from his brother. Going through the 25 messages that he could see, they were all but junk mail with ridiculous advertisements, and he blocked and deleted every single one of them. Left with only message, he suspected it to be just some more advertisements. He checked the message, then clicked delete, but the message didn't go away. He clicked the thrash can a multiple amount of times, but the message remained at a stand still. Looking at the where it came from, it said the sender was Anonymous Message. The description caught his eye as it said "Instead of trying to delete this message, as you do all other messages, you should read it." You have got to be kidding me. The kid thought to himself. Not only can I not delete this damn message, but it know exactly what I am doing and telling me what to do. This is fucking perfect, what more can I ask for? Opening the message he began reading:

Dear Soto Konoha,
I was very intrigued at your way of living life. How you don't care for other people's feelings, you get into this big fights that either end in your victory or, mostly, your defeat. It is truly inspiring to see someone cause so much discord in their way of life. I have never known life could be so hazardous to people until I saw you, and for this, I have sent you this message with a proposition. So listen very closely for I won't simply tell you, and your kind would say, up front.

You are allowed to make one wish,
Whether it's fine and noble, or just really childish.
Upon this wish it will come true,
Leaving you with seven nights to choose a path that splits into two.
You must find out what I want you to choose before the seventh night,
Or I will send you to a world you will hate with all of your might.
Once you have found what I have wanted, you are able to choose,
To stay in this dream land of yours, or return home to the land you so happen to accuse.
Just remember, depending on your wish my rules may change,
Leaving you with other goals that may seem strange.
My ideas will not hurt you in any sort of way,
Unless you can't make the decision by the dawn of the eighth day.
I will happily await your response, take all the time you need,
To make wish that you want, for I can only help you proceed.

Sincerely,
Anon
P.S.: The very first wish that you give me will be the only wish you can make, and you can't take it back.

Finishing the letter, Soto sat their in silence thinking how stupid someone must be to send a letter that is full of bullshit and lies. "Oh yeah," he finally said aloud. "Sure, why don't we all make a wish. Here, lets wish for the perfect world, free of gangs, thugs, and many problems that Earth seems to have. Let us hope that this 'wish' will send me such a place where everyone is nice, and care free, and the people there accept everything about someone because that sure does fucking exist. Not that it will even help me, but come one, I am not a fucking idiot. I wasn't born yesterday, and I certainly made plenty of wishes in my life. None came true because everyone knows wishes are just another damn way of bring some simple minded person's hopes up just so that they could be shot down in realization that their wish never came true." Seizing himself from venting anymore anger at a letter, he noticed he received another message appeared. Checking it was from the same anonymous person, he opened the letter and started reading what it held:

I do appreciate the sarcasm in your speech, but as I said early, the very first wish that you give me will the one wish that you make. Even if you didn't mean for this to be your wish, this is what you got, and I am proud to say: Your wish has been granted. Now, that your wish is clear, my goal is set, and your job is to find out what I want you to learn from this amazing adventure that you so happily wanted. I wish you the best of luck on your quest, and most importantly, don't screw up!

Sincerely,
Anon
P.S.: This message will self destruct in two seconds start at the end of this sentence.

Finishing the sentence, Soto jumped is shock and threw himself over his couch hiding from what ever damage he could avoid. Nothing happened. He looked over the couch to see that the laptop was still there, and the message had an extra message further down on the screen. Climbing back over the couch, Soto continued reading:

P.S.S.: Hahaha, I can't believe you actually thought that this would blow up, priceless. You are a laugh when you want to be, you know? Seriously though, Your wish will begin tomorrow, and, if I say so myself, you will definitely notice the change in your dream world from your world itself.

After reading the last word on the letter, both letters vanished into thin air, leaving the inbox empty of messages. Unable to find words to put how he felt, Soto simply sighed in exhaustion, and he made is his toward the coldest, darkest, and quietest place that he knows, his room. Walking into the room, it is the only clean place in the house. The bed was neatly made with no creases to be seen. There was a small book shelf over in the corner of the room holding a bunch of books, a pair of prescription and sunglasses, and a deck of cards. Resting next to the book shelf was an Aerodyne Jazz Bass, brand new and untouched. Posters covered one of the walls of the room with cars, guns, and the grim reaper. Without turning on the lights, Soto made his way toward his bed, falling on top without worrying about wearing his clothes or if he is in pajamas.

"Just you wait," he spoke to himself "once tomorrow comes, you will laugh your ass off at the person who sent you that crazy letter. There is no way such a dream would come true because there is no such thing as a place that you have just describe. Everywhere in life is a living hell..."