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// (5) Don't Panic 
// Story: Coming Out Of My Cage 
// by Boopy Doopy 
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Mark’s hand was shaking as he stood in front of the closet door. He was extremely nervous about what would be held behind it, and was conflicted about what it should be. The ideal scenario, the most likely scenario, was for there to be nothing. It would hurt very much to see, but it would at least help him be able to put that thought to an end. Even though it was hard, he was managing his feelings for now. Having that portal be real would make it so, so much more difficult to manage, almost impossible if there was an out right there in his own home.
But would that be so bad? Having a place he could go to where he could not hate himself, where the dysphoria would end, at least for a little while, would be more than he could ever ask for. Even if it were only for a few hours a day, or less, the weight off of his shoulders would be unbelievable. It was unbelievable. And he knew it was something he absolutely wanted to experience again.
He took a few deep breaths, trying to keep himself calm as he gripped the doorknob shakily and pulled the door open. He closed his eyes before he opened it all the way, trying to delay the inevitable, the disappointment he would feel when it wasn’t there, the worry about what would happen if it was there. Keeping his eyes closed kept him safe. Heck, having his closet not contain what he hoped it had was safer than the other outcome. Having the trapdoor be there would bring with it the eventual inevitably of having to confront himself. He knew how he felt, but being forced to confront the root cause of those feelings absolutely terrified him.
He let himself live in safety for a second longer before opening his eyes, his heart beating out of his chest when he saw the faint glinting of the ring on the ground. Several thoughts ran through his head all at once, but these were ignored as he hurriedly pulled the trapdoor open and climbed down the ladder, jumping the last few feet to face the door that changed him. His heart felt like it was beating at a thousand beats a minute as he shivered, his eyes watering as he stared at something that couldn’t possibly be real.
“I can’t go in there,” he thought to himself as he closed his eyes and turned away, clenching his jaw. “I shouldn’t even be entertaining this. It doesn’t matter how I feel. I’m not a girl, even if whatever information that horse had on me said I am. It’s just going to make my dysphoria worse when I have to leave again.”
He glanced back at the door for a moment, his eyes falling on the note. As he read it over again, the wetness in his eyes turned into a few teardrops threatening to fall to the floor. Miss Mark ‘Katrina’ Wiley. Where before it made him blush and his heart flutter, now it made him frustrated at what he wasn’t. He so, so deeply wanted to be what the note read, but knew he couldn’t, even if the portal did change him. Even though he knew why he hated himself so much, walking through that door meant acknowledging it. Even if he already knew what he was, there was no way he could actually admit it, not to himself or anyone else, let alone face it. 
It took much more than a little while for Mark to gather the strength to head back up the ladder and out of the closet, unable to stop the tears from running down as he did so. He lay down in bed carefully and, despite his being alone, did his best to not cry too loudly. He tried to breathe and calm himself down as he cried, but wasn’t able to easily, staying upset and frustrated and sad for much longer than he would’ve liked to.
He hated how unfair everything was. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that he had to be so uncomfortable in his own skin, that he had to hate himself because he couldn’t be who he felt he should be. He just wanted the feeling to go away, even though he knew it wouldn’t. It was even more unfair that he had to know it wouldn’t ever leave him. Not without confronting himself anyway, or some other greater miracle taking place.
“Why can’t I just be a normal person?” he thought to himself bitterly, the niceness of his inner monologue not matching with how repulsed he was by practically everything else about him. “I shouldn’t have to feel like this. If I could just let go of this feeling…”
He let himself lay down and cry and be sad for a few hours, sometime around then falling into a dreamless sleep. Before he knew it, he was waking up again, the sadness he felt last night still lingering over him. He didn’t dwell on it though, forcing himself up and going through the motions of his morning routine. Shave, shower, comb his hair- it was all of twenty minutes before he was booting up his laptop and chatting online again.
Several messages immediately grabbed his attention, his friends asking where he was and if he was okay, seeing as he was offline for the entirety of yesterday. Frankly, he had forgotten about them, given the events of last night, and felt bad because of it.
“I’m sorry,” he typed. “I was just taking a personal day. A few things came up. I’m sorry.”
“Awwww, it’s okay Katrina!” he read as the response to his message. “You don’t need to apologize to us! You take all the time you need, girl!”
Normally, seeing a message like that would make him hum happily to himself, but after yesterday, he found himself feeling bad because of it. He sighed to himself as his fingers typed on his keyboard automatically, and before he could stop himself, he was sending out a question.
“Hey, I was wondering, what would you do if a portal to another world suddenly appeared in your home?” Mark asked. “And it changed you into a horse and your sex to the opposite of what you were?”
It was only a few seconds before dozens of replies came in, nearly all of them telling him that they would immediately go through, a girl named Sylvia inquiring further.
“It would depend,” she responded. “If I was cis, I wouldn’t, but if I was trans, I would go in the first chance I got. That sounds like the most amazing thing ever! Are you trans?”
He practically flinched at the question as his fingers hovered above the keyboard, trying to figure out he should respond. He hated that he was asked that, the question being even worse online than it was in real life. At least in real life where he was known as Mark, he could just say no. That was much harder to do in the place where he was known as Katrina, a much more difficult question to answer, especially since he never wanted to admit the answer.
After several long seconds of deliberation, he quickly closed the laptop and set it aside, deciding he’d rather ignore her question and hope she would forget than give her a yes or no response. Not that she probably didn’t already know because of his question. If she didn’t, she’d have no trouble figuring it out from his lack of response. It was another person learning something about him much more quickly than he learned himself.
“If I were trans, I would go in, she said,” Mark thought to himself as he placed his head against his pillow to sort out his thoughts. “I already knew that though. Going in again basically confirms that I am. If I do, I won’t be able to take that action back…”
Who was he kidding? Certainly not himself. He already knew what he was. Acting like going through that portal would change anything about himself was ridiculous. The fact that he was even debating it in his head was proof enough.
“I hate this so, so much,” he whispered to himself as he turned over, looking out his bedroom door and into his hallway, the closet that called his name only a few steps away.
Was there any way he could go through that portal and not have to acknowledge what he was? It was a world to another dimension as that horse had said. Wanting to go back through it was something completely natural, not a sign of anything more. Anyone else in his position, regardless of who they turned into, would have already gone back through without even thinking about it. What made him any different, besides the obvious?
“It doesn’t mean anything if I do,” he said to himself, though not getting up from his bed yet. “It’s a door to another world. There are a hundred million other reasons for why I would want to go back, being a girl being the least of them. It doesn’t mean anything.”
He continued to stare, the door still calling his name, so powerfully that he imagined hearing it in real life. He closed his eyes and listened for a moment before suddenly snapping them open. That wasn’t his imagination. Someone was actually calling for him.
“Katrina!” someone called out from below, now forcing Mark to his feet. “Where are you? I need help! Please, Katrina!”
He only hesitated for a moment at the prospect of going back down before shaking his head clear, not wasting any more time. It was only a few moments before he was heading down the ladder, having to dodge someone at its base lying on their stomach on the floor. 
“Oh, thank you so much!” the girl exclaimed as she looked up at him, a voice Mark recognized as the pony he met yesterday, Twilight Sparkle. “I fell down while trying to get up that ladder and I’m having trouble getting back up, and… you’re not Katrina, are you?” she asked. 
Mark opened his mouth to answer, but no words came out. He had no idea how he should respond to that, and so decided not to after a moment of consideration. Silently, he swooped down to pick the girl up, placing her arm around his neck to support her.
“Um, I- it would be better if you could get Katrina, sir,” Twilight told him, wincing as she and Mark moved. “I know you’re helping me right now, but I need to get back behind that door, and like the sign says, it’s not for public use. Only she and I are allowed to go through it. You understand, right?”
As much as he wanted to comment on it, he refrained, taking a deep breath as he pulled the door open. He pushed away the knowledge that she would see just who he was when he went through, focusing on getting her to the door.
“You really shouldn’t go through there,” Twilight explained seriously, stopping for a moment as she looked right at him. “I know you’re helping me, and I appreciate it, but it’s really not meant for anyone but Katrina.” She said it, but even as she did, she didn’t try to do anything that could directly stop him, not that she could.
“I can find somepony- err, someone- to help me once I get through that door,” she continued, wincing a bit in pain.
Mark let out a breath at those words. “Don’t think about it,” he told himself as he pressed forward, feeling ready to have a heart attack at what she would think of him in a second. “What I change into doesn’t mean anything.”
With that, he stepped through the door and changed.