The march to the dining hall seemed like the ones Anon could remember seeing in her past life, with the hungry desperate men staring over at the camera and wondering why the people holding it tortured them so. Corridors once helpful reminders of her new status in the world became mausoleum passages leading to a waiting gravesite. Even the dinner table, just as majestic as before with its plethora of breads and vegetables, elicited nary a grumble within Anon’s stomach as she walked beside Twilight. The sole consolation came in the mares being too distracted chatting amongst themselves, catching up on the time they’d missed in pampering Anon.
I can’t do this anymore, Anon thought, staring down at the floor to hide the last remaining wetness in her eyes. I don’t deserve to be around these wonderful mares.
“Wow!” Rainbow Dash called out, zipping towards the seat on the opposite end of Twilight’s chair. “Onion rings!”
“And buttered scones!” Fluttershy said, louder than she’d been for all of the time Anon knew her. She glanced over at Twilight with a look half-thankful, half-admonishing. “Twilight, you really shouldn’t have.”
Twilight gave a flippant wave of her hoof. “It’s nothing, really. The chef was more than happy to prepare everything. Mostly because whatever we don’t finish will go to the staff. They work so hard all the time, and everything’s gone so smoothly today that I think they deserve a treat.”
Stop being so good! Anon wanted to scream. She kept her head down while the rest of Twilight’s friends took their respective chairs. Anon only moved when she saw Twilight heading toward her own chair, and she pattered behind her guardian to her own designated seat. She hopped up and landed with a fwoomph louder than she wanted to make. Fortunately for her, Twilight paid no mind, instead beckoning her friends toward their waiting feast.
“Please, eat up!” Twilight said. “The cooks didn’t make this just for show!”
“Wayth aheadh ov you, sishter!” Pinkie Pie called out between a mouthful of mashed potatoes. The table all chuckled, an act Anon could only replicate with a strained smile. Much like her mounting of the chair, nopony paid any mind to the half-hearted gesture and dug into their respective dishes.
For a few minutes, Anon found her nondescript position amongst the group the greatest blessing she’d had next to being sent to Equestria.
In between bites of food, Twilight and her friends talked about themselves and the happenings in their own lives. Whether the discussion was the latest zap apple harvest at Applejack’s farm or the new bearcat Fluttershy introduced to her wildlife preserve, the mares paid little attention to the morose filly picking at the food on her plate. Their own chewing, violent and quick due to wanting to get a word out in between bites of their feast, contrasted with Anon’s measured nibbles. Too measured to be anything but an attempt to blend in, but Anon was sure not even Twilight could catch onto the act as long as her friends remained the targets of her affection.
The only hiccup in the visage, Anon found, came from her own face. Much like her eating, Anon’s face was pushed into a form of abject neutrality. No happiness, no anger, no melancholy, nothing. Nopony in Equestria, not even the greatest Manehattan detectives, would be able to gauge her emotion for however long they stared. In anyplace else, ponies would’ve looked at the filly as just taking in the world around her and gone on with the rest of their day.
In a room overflowing with so much joy and warmth, however, Anon’s coldness stood out like blood in the snow. Anon discovered this during a few lulls in the mares’ conversations, when one of them would give an errant look her way. Their happiness would stifle for just a moment, confused by the forced boredom in Anon’s eyes. Anon did her best to assuage their concerns and force a faint smile to cross her face. The mare, whether Applejack or another one of the Elements, would then give a smile of their own, almost suffocating in its genuineness, before returning to the topic at hoof.
These moments were when Anon’s love towards the mares intermixed with hatred. Hatred for how wonderful they had made her day. Hatred for making them clever enough to spot the seams in her ever-weakening disguise. Hatred for being the kind of mares one couldn’t hate, for tricking an enemy is much easier than tricking a friend.
After what felt like hours forcing unsentimental smiles and prodding peas upon her plate, a chef came out of the kitchen. His name was Mr. Whirl, the head chef, and a large handlebar mustache stretched across his face. He was pushing the dessert tray, loaded with various ice creams and gelatins that wiggled over each bump on the ceramic floor. The mares all looked at the assortment of treats with anticipatory glee, especially Pinkie Pie.
For a moment, Anon breathed a sigh of relief. Another distraction coming to her aid, stalling the tears that she couldn’t shed now lest her mother and her friends’ day be ruined. She would sit back, refuse dessert on account of the meal size, and wait for the inevitable sugar crash to take care of the mares. Maybe they’d be so tired she wouldn’t even have to talk to Twilight tonight. Maybe Jet would have to guide her back to bed, her tight-lippedness Anon had once considered off-putting becoming a great relief for the agony she now felt.
Anon watched the various mares give directions for each dessert. Pinkie had merely taken one of everything, Applejack had only a scoop of vanilla, and Rarity weighed the potential caloric intake each treat might give her. The chef almost seemed relieved when Anon shook her head and pointed to the still unfinished peas upon her plate.
“Everything alright, Nonny?” Twilight asked.
Anon’s back stiffened, before she realized Twilight’s seating gave her only a clear view of the back of Anon’s head. Forcing the smile once more, she turned to her and said, “Sure am. I just wanted to finish my peas before dessert.”
“That’s certainly mature of you,” Twilight said. “But I’m sure Mr. Whirl wouldn’t mind if you tried some of his desserts.”
“You said the cooks get whatever we don’t eat, right? Maybe Mr. Whirl would like some of his desserts when he’s done.”
“Why, how considerate!” Twilight said, levitating a mixture of strawberry and rocky road ice cream in front of her. “I’m sure Mr. Whirl appreciates your thoughtfulness, Nonny!”
Mr. Whirl gave only a disinterested shrug and chugged the cart along to the nearby Fluttershy, who was trying to pick lettuce out of her teeth.
“Guess you’re still a little full from Pinkie’s treats, huh?” Twilight said.
“I guess,” Anon said. “And I’m just kind of tired.”
“I’ll bet. Flying with Rainbow Dash, wings or not, would exhaust anypony. We’ll go to bed after I talk with the girls a little more, okay?”
Anon nodded. The relief that had come only in spurts now unleashed itself upon her like a bursting dam. She had only to wait a few more minutes when the ice cream would grow too soggy to eat and conversation would falter into mutterings as the friends became weary with the exertions of the day. Then the day would be over, and the tears she’d been fighting back the last few hours would be easier to shun.
“Goodness, is it dark in here,” Rarity said. The room indeed seemed darker than when they’d arrived, aided by the sun’s magically-coerced descent shortly before the group had settled for dinner. “Can we find a way to brighten…”
Anon heard and saw nothing but the past in front of him. The decadent table shifted away into the blank form the darkness always brought whenever Anon fell asleep. Only she knew she was awake then, watching the various nightmares appear before her in a manner not unlike the old black-and-white televisions from her past life. They flashed past, each scene vivid and gut-wrenching.
The last obscene gesture his father had made when the pleadings to stay echoed ineffectively throughout the house.
The CPS agent pushing him and his brother away as their mother walked with the orderly to her new room in the state hospital.
The stinging blows to the head each new bully in each new school provided with each new foster family the two found themselves in.
The car crash. A ringing headache that carried over with him to Equestria, along with the knowledge his brother’s body sat somewhere broken and torn on the wreckage-filled highway. Or maybe still in the driver’s seat where Anon had screamed at him for a reason he couldn’t even remember.
Anon could feel the tears already flowing, as well as the Princess staring down in concern.
“Anon, what’s wrong?” Twilight gently asked.
The doors were too far away to scamper past, the windows too high up to leap out safely. Anon dove under the table and began to sob. She tried to keep the bawling down, but she knew the cat was out of the bag. The rustle of the tablecloth already indicated Twilight’s presence, as well as the hushed voices of her friends above.
“Anon?” She looked up to see Twilight sticking her head under the tablecloth. Even in the darkness Anon could see the telltale worry across her face.
“I’m sorry,” Anon said, sniffling. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For ruining everything. Making today a sad day instead of a good one.”
Twilight’s eyes widened before she shook her head. “No! Anon, you didn’t― What do you mean?”
Anon gave a quick sniff. “I didn’t think it would be like this. All these thoughts from before mixing with now. Some days I wake up like I should be. A little filly, all happy and smiles. Others I’m back to being… older, like you and your friends. And a boy and grown-up. And sad.” She buried her head into her forehooves. “I don’t know what to do...”
“Pain isn’t always easy to heal,” Twilight said. “It’s… It’s pretty hard, actually. And that’s okay. That’s why I’m here, Anon. You don’t need to hide it from me...”
“I didn’t want to bother you,” Anon whispered, hiccuping every few words. “Over there, that’s all I was. A bother.”
Twilight frowned. “Don’t say that. It’s not like that at all.”
Burying her head in her hooves, Anon said, “Maybe you’re right. But I still feel like it’s my fault anyway.”
A silence passed between them, aided by the now completely silent mares sitting above them.
“I don’t know what happened to you before, Anon. But the pony I’ve seen these past few months is somepony anypony would be lucky to know. One who cares about others and tries to be the nicest pony they can just so others won’t have to suffer the same way they did.”
Twilight ran a hoof through her mane, each newly mangled frizz still sparkling in the table’s darkness, and sighed. “So I guess what I want to say is that I’m worried. Scared, even. Because you act so happy and loving that the little voice in the back of my head says you’re hurting more than all the other Anons I’ve taken in. That you think you’re not worth helping.” She eased ever closer to the shaking filly. “But I’m not asking you to be the perfect pony, Anon. I don’t want you to fake a smile. I want you to let somepony help you.”
Anon leaped towards Twilight and buried her neck into Twilight’s lavender fur. “I’m sorry,” she said between sobs. “I’m sorry.”
“I know,” Twilight said, nuzzling her daughter as best she could. “You deserve to be happy, Nonny. Okay? Believe me, you do.”
A small rustle emanated under the table behind Anon, who gave a weak smile. “You girls can come under here, too,” Anon said. “I can hear you listening.”
Around her, the tablecloth lifted to find the five mares staring in at them. Concern filled their faces, even the ever-cheerful Pinkie’s.
“Are you alright, Anon?” Applejack said, reaching out toward her.
Anon grabbed her hoof and nodded. “I was just sad because you’re all so wonderful,” Anon blubbered. “And you make me feel like I’m loved. I… I haven’t felt like I deserved that in a long time.”
Applejack returned the squeeze, moving so she could wrap Anon in her own embrace. Rainbow soon followed, the unmistakable scent of the stratosphere enveloping Anon’s mucus-leaking nose.
“Keep your chin up, kid,” she cooed. “You still got plenty of flights to take.”
The others followed, and one by one, each pony’s legs wormed their way through the others’ until Anon could feel nothing but the warmth of their soft fur and see only the stars in Twilight’s hair surrounding them under the blackened table.
Yet for the first time since she arrived, Anon was not afraid of the darkness.