//------------------------------// // I DONT WANT TO GO TO THE DOCTOR // Story: DON'T CALL ME CUTE // by Flutterpriest //------------------------------// The waiting room to the physician’s office is bland to say the least. The various coffee tables have outdated magazines and childrens books covering their many imperfections.  You look from the books, to Twilight, who brought her own book for the wait. Not that you’re surprised. If anything, you’re envious.  “Why are we here again?” you ask. “Well, I’m not a trained doctor, Anon. I may be able to perform magical checks and scans, but nothing will replace an actual doctor’s inspection of your body.” You sigh and slouch in your chair. Then, off in the corner you see it. A rather strange looking toy with various beads on tracks. You’ve seen similar things on earth. You can move the beads along little tracks from one side to the other. You glance up at the clock. And there’s still easily 5 minutes before the doctor will see you. If only there was something here to keep you entertained for someone your age. You stare at the ceiling. “Oh wait, I’m a kid.” You sit up, and mosey over to the strange bead toy. You look over at Twilight, who watches you over her book. “I’m bored. What else do you want from me?” Twilight smiles and shakes her head. “Don’t give me that ‘Oh I’m going to shake my head because even though he’s an adult he still acts like a kid,’ bulls$#@.” “Language, Anon.” “I’ll have you know I’d still play with this… this…” you look up to the receptionist. She shrugs at you. “Thingy, even if I was an adult.” You turn your attention back to the bead toy thingy. “I’d probably just wait until nobody was watching.” You slide one bead from one side of the large toy, through a little loop de loop, then down on the other end.  A strange smile forms on your lips as you pull another bead from a different end. You push it extra hard to see if it can get all the way just through sheer momentum. But it gets hung up on a strange curve.  “Whenever you’re done playing with the play cube. We’re ready for you, Anon.” “Huh?” you ask, looking up at the doctor who magically appeared behind you. “That was fast. We still had five minutes.” “Time flies when you’re having fun,” he says.  Twilight closes her book and follows you inside the doctor’s office. “I’m a grown man, I can talk to the doctor myself.”  “We’ve been over this, Anon,” Twilight says. “Yes, this is certainly the case study that the town's talking about right now,” the doctor says, flipping through the large mound of papers Twilight provided him. “So, he went from a nearly monkey-like lifeform, into a pony. Just, poof. Magic.” “Yep,” you say, trying to hop on the examination table with your little hooves. “Can I get a step stool here?” “It’s been the strangest thing,” Twilight says. “I haven’t been able to reverse engineer the spell that I cast on that day. Even making slight tweaks and alterations to account for incorrect incantation hasn’t helped. We were able to get him half back to normal, but that proved to be a bigger problem than it was worth.” “I see,” the doctor says. “Well, we can certainly check for reflexes and nervous system damage.” “How about I kick you in the balls and I have your reflexes make a step stool for me,” you growl. He pulls out a step stool and you hop on top of the exam table. You can’t help but feel slightly numb to this. There’s been so much poking and prodding of your new body that it doesn’t even feel real anymore. He wacks all of your joints with a little hammer. He pokes the soft inners of your hooves with a sharp pencil. He shines a light in your eyes. He backs up and marks down a lot of information on his sheet. “Well?” Twilight asks. “It’s just like you said. She-” “He,” you correct The doctor looks from you to Twilight. She nods. “He seems to be a perfectly normal, healthy filly. Just like you said.” “That’s it?” you ask. “How long do you plan to keep him a filly,” he asks. A colossal weight hangs in the room and makes the air thick and humid. Twilight rubs her hoof in the ground. “As short of a time as we can,” she says. “And how close are you to finding the definitive answer.” She opens her mouth and looks at you. “I feel close, but every time I think I found  a breakthrough, it’s another dead end. I just--” she trails off. You look to the floor. There was a feeling in the back of your mind that she was stuck, and this was evidential proof.  Maybe you’re stuck like this forever. Maybe it’s time to just give up on the idea of having the body you really want or feel like you belong in.  “Well, I ask,” the Doctor says, trying to cut the tension. “Not to try and rub any salt in the wounds, but because Anon here has no vaccination records in this body.” Your head perks up. “Shots?” “Yeah. Just like moving houses, you gotta do some preemptive maintenance on whatever you’re living in. And you are totally at risk for catching Ponlio, Pony Pox, and a ton more diseases.” “OOOHHH no. I am NOT getting more shots,” you say. “H$#@ no. F$#@ that.” Twilight waves a hoof. “Hey, Anon, look at me,” she says. You look at her, fearing a trap. A sharp prick in your arm. You look up to the doctor. “Sorry, Anon.” Twilight says. “You’ll wake up in a few. I knew you don’t like-” You wake up to a beautiful, ordinary, average day in Equestria. You rise out of bed and stand on your two feet. You look down. Feet. You gasp. Bringing your hands to your face, you feel their tender digits massage your jaw line. They outline your nose. Eyes. Forehead. Normal hair. You reach down and feel your own male pride swelling from a wake up call. “Oh my god,” you gasp. “I’m back.” You rush through your home to the bathroom. You stand in front of the mirror and reflected back at you is… a green pony filly with a long black mane. “Expecting something else?” she asks you. She laughs. You feel something gurgle in your stomach. You lean forward and out comes thousands of little, tiny writhing worms. You turn the faucet, but a red, goopy blood oozes from the faucet. You back up as the reflection laughs harder and harder. The door slams behind you. You try to grab the door handle, but you have no fingers, only hooves. “Anon?” a far off voice asks. The laughing pierces your ear drums. “Anon?” Twilight asks. “Anon?” You open your eyes. The room is blurry, but it seems like it’s your room. Twilight sits beside you. “You knocked me out for the shots?” you ask. “Yeah,” she said.  “Thanks,” you groan, trying to sit up in bed. “Could have done without the dreams though.” She looks down at her hooves. “Was it a bad dream?” she asks. “Better than the ones I’ve had at night lately.” you say. No point in not being honest. A silence fills the air.  “I honestly expected there to be a bit more nonsense today,” Twilight chuckled. You aren’t really sure how to respond.  “I didn’t want you to hear that I’m stuck with my research,’ she said. “But I figured I had to be honest with the doctor.” “How much longer do you think I have to be stuck like this?” you ask. “Is this just… going to be my new life now?” She looks up at you, and her eyes are shimmering from the light of your bedside lamp. “I’m asking for help. The best magician I know is coming to help me tomorrow. And I hope that, after that… We’ll know for sure.” “If I’m stuck?” you ask. “If you can change back,” she says. She sighs, looking at the ground. “Not that it’s any different.” She rises to her hooves.  “I’m going to take care of you, Anon. This is my fault, and I’m going to make it right.” You reach out a hoof to her and grab her wing. “Listen. Just please don’t be hard on yourself. That’s not going to make it easier for anyone.” She looks to the door, and nods. “I know you’re doing your best. And I believe in you. I feel well taken care of. And, well. If this is my new life?” you trail off, not really sure how to continue honestly. After a moment, you continue. “If this is my new life, I can’t think of anypony more wonderful or caring to spend it with.” Twilight remains still, and sniffs. “We’re going to do our best tomorrow, Anon. And it means a lot to hear you say that.” She turns back to you and wraps her wings around you in a tight hug. The warmth of her body fills you. Twilight presses her lips on your forehead and you can’t help but wrap your arms around her. Here, you feel safe. Here, you feel special. Here, you feel home. “Sleep well, alright?” Twilight says. “I’ll try,” you reply. “By the way, who is coming tomorrow?”  Twilight smiles and nods. “The pony who taught me everything I knew about magic, and has always been my biggest inspiration.” “Trixie?” you ask. Twilight shakes her head and gives a dry laugh. “Night, Anon. Just for that, we’re having cereal tomorrow.” “LOVE YOU TOO!” And as Twilight leaves your room and closes the door behind you, you can’t help but stare at your ceiling and think about that last joke you made. As much as you love to annoy Twilight. That hug was… well. Special. And you can still feel the outline of her lips on your head. Is this love? Or rather, what kind of love is this? The very thought makes you feel gross. But that’s probably more from being a kid than anything else. You roll over in bed and close your eyes.  Either way, soon you’re going to know. And then, well, then you’ll know. A well of anxiety boils up from within your chest, but what lulls you to sleep isn’t the residue of strong tranquilizers that were given to you for shots, and surely wasn’t softness of your bed sheets or mattress. It was the warmth that grew inside, borne from that kiss on your forehead.