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// Chapter Seventeen: Anonymous Faces His Demons, and Reclaims His Sanity// Story: Living the Good Life// by Aetherpony//------------------------------//
You wade through creeks, you climb over hills, you walk through thickets of briar patches, and still you haven’t reached your destination. You’re starting to doubt that this zebra knows where she’s going. You’ve been following her for about an hour now. During your little hike you’ve had to fight tooth and nail in order to keep up with her.
Not once did she stop to rest, though she would turn her head occasionally to make sure you were still following her.
“Our travels are almost at an end, do not fret for soon your wounds I’ll mend.” Is all the little zebra told you about a half an hour ago. The crunching of leaves and sticks caused by your feet and her hooves are the only forms of entertainment you have on this little journey.
All the while you’ve been suspecting this creature. Sure she saved you from whatever it was Discord sent your way, but what if this is another ploy to lure you into a false sense of security? You expect to find Discord waiting with a cocky smile whenever you reach your destination. If she leads you to him you don’t know what you’ll do.
The thought of him is starting to cause you a headache. In fact ever since he put his claw to your temple your head has been experiencing this uncomfortable pressure. It comes and goes, but when it surfaces there are times when it’s almost unbearable. You stop to massage your temples in hopes of getting rid of this pain.
“We cannot stop and take a break, there is too much at stake.” Your companion moves behind you. She pushes the back of your legs with her head in order to get you to move.
“Why should I be following you anyway? All you’re gonna do is turn me over to Discord when we get out of here.” You push against her to keep from going anywhere. This causes the zebra to stop pushing. She moves her head away from your legs and steps in front of you her expression seems to be one of pity.
“Is that what you believe? That I mean to deceive?”
“Well, yeah. I’m not expecting anything other than that. Everything here is against me. Discord made that pretty clear.” The zebra shakes her head in disappointment before going back to trotting ahead of you. “Yup, as soon as we get out of here you’re gonna hand me over to that chimera.” You continue while following. “Then he’s probably gonna wipe my memory or kill me or keep rubbing in the fact that none of this shit is real and that Twilight and the others are all fakes or figments of my imagination or something.” You’re taken aback when the zebra begin to laugh. It’s like she’s mocking what you’re saying.
“That had to be the funniest thing I have ever heard. Anonymous, that accusation is quite absurd!” your companion’s rhyming words are starting to get on your nerves.
“You’re not exactly dismissing my “absurd” theory either.” You cross your arms. The zebra turns back to look at you.
“And why is it might I ask, that makes you think that is my task?”
“Well for one thing I’ve never told you my name.” Yeah you knew it; she messed up right when you first met. You’ve never spoke to this zebra before yet she somehow knows your name?
“I told you an hour ago, ‘Ponies spoke of you’ I said. There must really be something wrong with your head.” Your retort comes swiftly.
“I haven’t seen you in Ponyville once since I got here. So please explain how you know so much.” You say it as an order rather than a request.
“I make trips into Ponyville once a week. I came at the time when you were not at your peak. Your scuffle with Big Macintosh I heard was severe. To survive his bucking I must endear.” Her explanation makes sense. If what she says is true then it’s quite possible that you missed her by random chance.
“It appears as though you retain some sense. I must admit your condition was cause for suspense. To have your mind broken and torn asunder, what remained of your sanity I began to wonder.” Why does this zebra keep trying to convince you that you’ve lost your mind? Your eyes have been opened. You’d be crazy to keep going along with that false life you were given. You’re liberated, not broken!
When you get to wherever she’s taking you, you’ll explain that to her in full. The rest of your little trip consists of silence. Another fifteen minutes go by before the two of you come upon a hollowed out tree. The bloated bit of bark seems swollen near the base. Upon closer inspection you find a two circular holes acting as windows and a single door appears to be like the one leading into Twilight’s library.
A wooden door literally built into a tree remains an alien concept to you. Though it doesn’t matter either way since seeing this tree hut is better than seeing Discord. The Zebra makes her way over to the hut and opens the door. She motions for you to follow her. You still have your doubts but this creature has yet to lead you astray. You duck down and follow her inside. When you do, you feel as though you’ve just stepped into one of those African huts you saw on the discovery channel.
Masks of ever changing shapes and sizes hang up on the walls. Though the masks are unusual and appear to depict quite fearsome effigies, they don’t take away from the otherwise warm and inviting look of the hut. A black cauldron sits in the center of the room you’ve stepped into. Looking to your right you find that a part of the tree’s interior is hollowed out to act as shelves.
Many bottles of different colors, shapes, and sizes rest within these small alcoves the zebra has made for herself. Several shelves line the walls each with their own bottles and tools used for the cauldron. Even the small table in the corner of the room has many utensils and empty bottles. It seems like every single inch of this room has something hanging off of it.
The hut is a bit too cluttered with objects for your taste. Looking through the rounded archway in the back shows a small bedroom. A leopard skin blanket can be seen from where you’re standing, but the bed itself remains hidden. All in all, it isn’t bad for someone if they’re looking to stay isolated. She points to you, then to her bedroom.
“In there is where you need to sit,” she eyes you up and down, “though be careful it may be a tight fit.” The stinging sensation in your legs and feet drive you to seek comfort.
You duck under the rounded archway and take a seat upon the pony sized bed. It’s not the most comfortable thing you’ve ever sat on, but then again you’re comparing her bed to yours… there is no competition.
There isn’t enough room for you to lie back so you lean forward instead. You watch as the zebra starts pouring various liquids into her cauldron. After that she sifts through a few other bottles, pulling out a variety plants and such as she does. Into the cauldron they go.
When she feels she sufficiently gathered enough ingredients she lights the wood underneath. For the next twenty minutes or so you watch her work her figurative magic as she mixes her concoction. A unique aroma fills the room. It’s not that it stinks; to you it smells like a combination of baked bread and raspberries. But you’ve never smelled anything that’s burned your nostrils before.
Before you could think more on the matter the zebra pours some of her concoction into a wooden bowl. She comes trotting into her room balancing the bowl on her back. The smell permeates through the air; the concentrated scent coming from the bowl makes it feel like your senses are on fire. This is really irritating you, somehow the zebra remains unaffected. She’s just standing there studying you without batting an eye.
“My brew is ready for you. A single gulp and your problems are through.” She turns so you’ll be able to grab the bowl. The concoction is hot to the touch through the bowl, and the burning sensations are getting to be unbearable. You cringe when you set the bowl in your lap.
“Are you sure this will help?” To say you were uncertain wouldn’t even cover how you’re feeling.
“That and plenty more, there is a source that you must explore.” What could she possibly be referring to? “The reason behind your anger is great; you must look ahead and face your hate. You’ve repressed a great deal, so much so you can no longer see what is real,” You sit in silence. You know you have a problem with anger. You’ve been that way for as long as you can remember. You recall all the horrible things it drove you to do… you could never forget… but how could this zebra know anything about you? Did she watch you beat Fluttershy to a pulp?
You wouldn’t allow yourself to feign ignorance. Those guys you hurt back in high school, your family, the reason why you were living by yourself in a shitty apartment for the last year, you wouldn’t dare forget. When you thought you had everything under control you still lashed out. You fought Big Macintosh with the intent to kill, you beat up Fluttershy, a pony whose only crime was being broken.
You berated Twilight to tears, called her a coward, and you shoved Rarity’s face into the ground. And as your battered mind recalls the events in your room you can’t forget the fury you unleashed upon yourself. Ever since Discord put his claw to you, you haven’t been able to think straight. One minute you’re faced with blinding fury, the next you feel happier than ever
Your body begins to shake and you find it hard to keep the zebra’s concoction in your lap. She grabs hold of the bowl and starts leading it to your lips. You make no move to stop her.
“I worry for you and the ponies you’ve come to know, I wish to see your friendships grow. So please Anonymous take a drink. Let go of your past and step back from the brink,” the zebra finishes her rhyming couplet. This could possibly be the biggest mistake you’ve made yet, but if what she says is true then you’ll drink it. You take the bowl from her hooves.
With a final sigh of acceptance you put the bowl to your lips and drink. The burning sensation gets worse. Immediately it feels like the skin within your nostrils is blistering. Your tongue and throat mimic the feeling. You grab your throat and wheeze. Your screams of pain come out as nothing more than dry wheezing. It seems like you did make a mistake, this zebra has poisoned you. She’s an apothecarist so it makes sense that she wasn’t affected by the smell. This is the last time you put your trust into a creature you barely know. The pain is excruciating. Everything burns; your eyes, nose, stomach, lungs, and heart…
It cripples you and forces you into the floor. Slowly but surely the burning consumes your entire body, then the light fades from your vision. You embrace the relief from the fire quelling within. The darkness is quite comforting. Your body finally stops convulsing from the stimulation the zebra’s brew caused. An untold amount of time passes before your eyes manage to open. The first thing that nips at you is the chilling breeze.
You get to your feet shivering, upon looking at your surroundings you find that you’re on Earth. The same old colors, the buildings that seem to rival the skies height, and the people. So many people, hundreds of them walk along the city block. None seem to have the time to simply slow down and enjoy each other, each having somewhere to be. The thing that makes you quake in fear the most is that none of them sport any sort of facial features. Each is a blank slate, expressionless.
You were one of them for the longest time, simply content with going about your day. No desire to talk to others if you didn’t need to. It was quite a lonely life for you, even if you’d never admit it.
This area you’re in is quite familiar. You’re near central park in your city. There were times you’d pass this place at night when you didn’t want to take the short way home. Days that you wanted to walk and reflect upon how far you’ve come in life. A useless degree for a job you could never land, a family that wanted nothing to do with you, and the mistakes you’ve made throughout your life. Many of those subjects would invade your thoughts here.
The faceless ones that are walking around you pay you no mind. None glance your way. There’s no way you can be back on Earth, at least not all of you. People would turn to their heads to see a naked, patchy haired guy in the streets. Regardless of whether this place is your home or not you feel very cold. While rubbing your arms in hopes of maintaining some sort of body heat you move on. Unsure as to what your destination will be…
You feel as though you’ve been walking for an eternity. You haven’t really gone anywhere. The only thing that’s changed is that the people walking around you have become blurred. They move so quickly around you they are nothing but colored streaks. It’s as if someone hit the fast forward button on a remote, yet you remain unaffected. You watch as the world around you begins to fade, bit by bit and soon an endless expanse of black is all you can see.
A familiar voice calling out to you catches your attention, echoing from within the abyss. No… it couldn’t be her… it just can’t be… But when the scene around you regains color and light you find that you’re in your old home back in your little suburban section of the city.
You find yourself in your old room the cold is finally gone. You wiggle your toes on your carpeting; it feels foreign to you. Your body had become so used to concrete and hardwood flooring you’d forgotten how good carpet can feel. You watch from within the corner of your bedroom as your sister stands above you while you sleep. She’s trying to shake you awake and slowly you get with it.
“Get up, you piece of shit! You’re supposed to take me and the girls shopping today!” she yells at you. You watch yourself groan out in protest before turning over. You remember this day; you were nearing the end of your first year in college. You were on break after taking an arduous test. You watch as the scene plays out…
Having felt relief from passing out you decided to catch up on the nights you went without sleep. Unfortunately your sister wouldn’t stop hounding you.
“Fuck off,” your past-self groans as you cover your head with the pillow. She tears it away and forces you to look her way.
“If you don’t get your lazy ass up I’m going to tell mom and dad where their alcohol is going!” your sister warns you before giving you a smug grin.
“What are ya gonna tell them? That you’ve been stealing it and bringing it to your little guy friends?” He sits up in bed.
“No, moron, I’m going to tell them you’ve been stressed out from school. Gonna let them know you’ve been hitting the bottle in order to keep cool.” He scoffs before shaking his head.
“You’d really do that?” He asks, knowing that your parents favor your sister’s word over yours. When she nods he sighs to himself before squeezing the bridge of his nose. “Fine, just let me throw something on.” He says defeated, for years you would try to point out that your sister is a liar. You don’t remember when you ruined your credibility.
“Good, now hurry the fuck up big brother.” She laughs before leaving him to get his clothes on. When she slams his door he grinds his teeth in anger before slamming his fist down on a nearby nightstand. This was when it started getting harder to keep your calm, collective attitude.
When your past-self gets to his feet the scene starts to dissipate into darkness again. As it does, you grab hold of your chest. Seeing that play out caused your body to recall the anger it was experiencing. It hurts you, like something was trying to tear its way out of your body.
You knew what would happen should you lose it; you repressed your anger that day. Another scene plays, this time you’re in the middle of class. Your college professor is currently taking flash drives. This particular course required you to use one of those little pieces of tech. Students would give him their flash drives, he’d grade your work that was on it, then give them back the following Monday.
You watch your past-self as he’s sitting at one of the many tables in the room. He looks over his little flash drive out of boredom. He jolts in surprise when a balled up piece of paper smack into the side of his head. You thought it sucked that a few of your sister’s friends from high school ended up going to the same college as you. Disgust fills your thoughts when you saw that you shared the same passion as a couple of terrible members of society. Though you wouldn’t call what you have a passion; your parents wanted this for you more than you did.
You groan before face palming at the scene. You recall hoping high school was over and that people would grow up and mature. It’s too bad that you were horribly mistaken that day.
When your professor calls your name your past-self gets to his feet and tries to walk over, but one of your sister’s friends had something else in mind. As you walked by he tripped you up causing you to fall flat on your face. Other students in the room laughed at your misfortune.
Before he got to his feet he cursed quite loudly. Turns out he snapped his flash drive in half when he fell to the floor. The one that tripped him looks over his shoulder as he holds both pieces in his hands.
“Sucks bro.” The bully says before leaning back in his chair. Here’s another point of when you almost lost it. In a flash your past-self is on his feet and next to the bully’s chair. He grabs him by the collar of his jacket and brings his fist back.
“MR. UKNOWN!” your professor shouts to him. His entire body tenses up and he freezes mid swing. “Just because you’re a klutz does not mean you should take your anger out on other students!” Again no one seemed to believe that anyone could possibly be making your life harder than it needed to be. It was just like being at home and in high school. You were alone at college.
“You should know better than to do that! I was going to give you an opportunity to make up your grade. But your actions have prevented it!” He reluctantly relaxes his grip on the perpetrator’s shirt. He and his friend get as far from you as possible. “Your midterm is now a zero Anonymous, now please take—“he didn’t wait for him to finish. He grabbed his things and left after that. After that day you worked your tail off getting things done for that class, but you never stepped foot in there again.
You would send everything via email and you took your final electronically. You barely passed. As the scene begins to dissolve much like the first you find yourself brought to your knees. You grab hold of your chest again. The pain is much worse than before. It feels like something is pushing against it, trying to free itself from within. You swear you can feel your muscles tearing away. There’s something writhing around inside of you. You have no idea what it could possibly be. What did that zebra have you drink?
Another scene fills in the dark expanses around you, and dread creeps from within. Its night time at your house and your past-self is in his room sitting at his desk. He has an empty bottle of vodka sitting on his desk in front of him. Your parents were out at some fancy restaurant meeting some clients. Apparently that night was going to be a big break for her and your dad, and you didn’t want to mess it up for them.
So instead of having your parents go to your ceremony you told them to take care of what they needed to. Naturally, your sister didn’t show up, so you got to spend your time alone after graduation. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Vodka was being a pretty good friend to you right about now. You got drunk a couple of hours ago and you’d sobered up quite a bit at this point.
Your past form sits at his desk merely staring at the bottle in boredom. You would browse the internet every so often but even that grew tiresome. When he hears the door open downstairs he thinks it’s his parents coming back from their dinner. But when he hears only a single set of feet walking around he realize it’s his sister.
“Hey homo, I’m coming up!” Your sister shouts while ascending the stairs. When she throws open the door to your room she grimaces. “Oh god you look pathetic. You really are a drunk, ain’t ya?” she giggles. When he ignores her comments she walks over to him. She smacks the back of his head like she used to do in middle school when he did something she didn’t like. “Hey asshole, I’m talkin to you!” He doesn’t respond. Once she sees that doesn’t get a rise out of your past-self from that she irritably before rubbing her temples. She was acting like HE was giving HER a headache.
“Fine, whatever. So how’d it feel to be all alone? Bet you’re probably used to it by now.” She laughs; she’s not giving up. She sits on his bed and looks at you with a cocky grin, “So I got that job working at daddy’s company. Gonna be makin six figures! Feels great to know I’ll still be beautiful when I retire.” It used to piss you off to no end, however, it had become nothing more than background noise. Her attitude has never changed since childhood. She was always vain. “I’m just tryin to figure out one thing though,” she starts before lying back on the bed.
“How did it feel? All these years with me fuckin with your sorry ass, Mommy and Daddy never listening to you, I made sure you never made a single friend in school, and I drove you up the wall.” She shouts out with glee when she figures you out, “Oh I get it! You’ve been ignoring me! Oh well, sucks to be me right? Can’t bother you anymore, but I gotta say it’s terrible having a mom and dad that love me, and friends that appreciate me.” You find yourself being unable to ignore her. Your past-self wraps his hands around the neck of his empty bottle; he doesn’t look her way, not yet.
You want nothing more than to look away, but something forces you to watch your unforgivable act. It seems that no matter what you do you’ll be forced to relive this horrid moment yet again.
“I guess you wouldn’t know anything about that since no one gives a shit. Mom doesn’t care, Dad doesn’t care, and I don’t care. If we did we would’ve watched you get your little piece of paper.” Your sister explains, her grin getting wider all the while. “And to think you only got it to make them happy! To get them to see you succeed, to have em pat you on the back and say “we’re proud of you son, we love you.” God you’re fucking stupid if you thought that’d work. Good job on wasting your time big bro.” She gives you a sarcastic round of slow applause.
You watch as your past-self as he gets out of his seat. Vodka bottle in hand. “Oh shit, looks like I struck a nerve! Big brother’s angry. What you gonna do, cry to mommy again?” You shiver with fright when you see yourself smile and turn her way. Your sister’s laugh falls short when she sees your grin.
“Naaaah, but I will do one thing. I’m gonna solve a problem!” your past-self shouts before swinging the empty bottle. Your sister shrieks in pain as the glass of your bottle shatters over her head. When she grabs hold of her eyes and starts to squirm on your bed you start laughing.
“You like that?! Huh?!” You cringe from the sheer glee in his voice. He isn’t done as of yet, he picks up your sister. She struggles in his grip but he’s much, much stronger than her. “Wonder if mommy’s gonna recognize your pretty little face when I’m done!” Again the scene fades away, but not the sounds of the broken glass as you cut into her face, or her screams. Her sobbing, her cries of anguish, the sounds amplify until covering your ears no longer muffles it. It’s like nails are being drug along a chalk board.
You find yourself shouting into the dark in hopes of overpowering it. You fail miserably until it finally dies down. There are no more sounds of skin being cut or shouting, just sobbing and the sound of you panting. That was when you blacked out for the second time, and that was when you could no longer stay in your home.
The abyss plays out the rest of your year for you. There are no instances of anger, nothing to grate your nerves, just you trying to survive. You stole all the money you could from your parent’s room. You packed what food you could. Then you ran out of the place you once called home. You managed to avoid the law enforcement your parents called out on you. Surprisingly you still managed to get out of the city.
You could recall days where your only shelter were the larger trees or sewer drains you found while you wandered aimlessly. Three days passed before an old man in a pickup truck would help you along. You gave him what money you could spare and he happily took you to where he needed to go. After many days you reached where you thought would be a new start. Finally, you happed upon a new city in an entirely new state.
Knowing you didn’t have the funds for a decent apartment you searched high and low for the lower income areas of the city. That’s where you found your grimy little apartment, your fat Italian landlord, and of course your factory job. Neither your landlord nor your boss asked too many questions.
You were offering your landlord money for rent, and you were offering to work for the factory longer than the other employees for less pay. Who were they to get in your business? So you lived your life, as boring as it was. You were hoping to leave behind what you’d done and you did for the most part. You would keep yourself so busy you didn’t have time to feel guilty about it.
You had to melt that steel; you had to drive the forklift. You needed to make sure you had food and water. Your landlord had to see his check every month. Your life was nothing more than repetition. Then Discord came along and offered you a chance to really start over, and now you’re here. The scene around you dissipates once more, hopefully for the final time.
You think it’s all over, that is until you hear someone call out. A voice you once dreaded hearing. Seems like God or whoever seems it fit to punish you. “Anonymous?” your sister is calling you…
You turn to the source of the voice to find your sister walking towards you. The only objects that seem to be giving off their own lighting are yourself and her. Everything else remains shrouded in darkness. Her pale blue eyes seem to glow as they fixate themselves on you. Why aren’t her eyes covered by something, why are there no scars, and how is she looking dead at you?
The time it takes for her to approach you is maddening. Thoughts and possibilities race through your mind. The majority of them cover negative actions and consequences. In fact, there’s no way to determine if she’s real or another hallucination brought on by that zebra’s medicine. You don’t know if any of this is real, but you do know one thing.
This clawing from within your body is real, and it’s scaring you most of all. When she’s only a few yards away the thought of turning and leaving becomes quite tempting. But where would you go? There is an endless expanse of nothingness all around you. Walking away would be pointless and a waste of your time.
You probably wouldn’t go anywhere anyway. Besides, it’s about time you faced her again. That night has plagued you for over a year; it’s time to finally get some peace. When your sister is within arm’s reach she stops and looks you over.
She doesn’t scrutinize, she doesn’t examine you like you’re some sort of foreign object. She’s just checking you over. It’s as if she’s trying capture your image so she has something to remember. When she’s done she looks up to you and she smiles. You feel a bit of air leave your lungs when she wraps her arms around you in a tight hug.
Needless to say you’re thoroughly confused. You don’t know whether to hug her back or shove her away. So you decide stand there with your hands at your side and wait for her to finish. Finally she pulls away; her smile isn’t as prominent as it was before. You can see the vast amounts of pity behind her eyes. She turns her head to the right and you do in turn. What you expect when a scene begins to play is another memory of you and her…
But it isn’t. Instead you see your mother and father sitting on opposite sides of a hospital bed. Your sister is in the bed. Your mother’s crying while your father is watching her intently. You want to see what’s behind the gauze covering your sister’s face so badly, your father holds your sister’s hand. He reassures her that everything is going to be fine, that they are going to get her help. That they’ll help her adjust to her new life, they tell her she’s blind. The night you smashed the bottle over her face then cut her up with the glass left her permanently crippled.
A doctor who looks to be in his mid-2os comes in and explains how her operation went. They were able to repair her tear ducts but her eyes were beyond repair. The glass did far too much damage. He says that the scars along her cheeks and neck would heal in time, but that it’d be wise for your parents to put her through therapy. To get her used to the idea of using a guide dog or white cane would take a few weeks, but the doctor was confident that she could get used to it and go back to living her life.
The scene advances past her therapy; it’s been a month and a half since she’s left the hospital. She sits on her bed with her feet hanging off of the side. She has her cane lying next to her. She takes in a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and then lets it out in a long steady pace. She gets to her feet, her cane in hand. She makes an attempt to leave her room and she does with little incident. She almost tripped over one of her shoes but she manages to keep her balance.
When she opens her door she walks down the hallway, her cane acting as her guide. After a few quick taps she manages to find the stairs leading down. She misjudges the distance and goes falling down them. She lands in a heap on the last step.
She curses loudly and grips her arm, her pain apparent. Other than a sore arm though no other injuries occur from her mishap. You know you should laugh, seeing your sister get her comeuppance from what she did to you should fill you with glee, but no laughter comes. Any sort of blissful feeling you could have from watching your sister suffer doesn’t surface. Instead all you can feel is guilt.
Guilt for what you had done to her, and for how it affected your family and those around them. You only wanted her to receive penance, not your parents, nor your aunts or uncles when they helped care for her.
Your one selfish action took its toll on the people you cared about the most. You watch as more scenes begin to play. You see your sister trip over low walls, hit her head on low hanging plants, running into doors, bumping into people in the streets, and many other mishaps.
It was hard for her to live like this, but she kept moving on. She didn’t let what you did to her stop her. All the while she messed up there were people around her; scrutinizing her, judging her, seeing her as something less because of her disability.
For once she got to see what it was like to be you. To feel helpless and alone in the world while others watch with scorn as you try your best to live, but it’s as she said that night you took her sight away: at least she had a mom and dad who loved her dearly. Her home was her only bastion from those in the outside world.
Her own friends started spending less time with her because she couldn’t be as outgoing as she used to be; her blindness wouldn’t allow it. You watch countless nights of her crying into her pillows, or screaming out and cursing your name. She’d shout about how much she hated you, or about how she hoped each and every day was its own personal brand of hell for you.
For months she wouldn’t stop blaming you. She couldn’t truly see why she was in this position. She could only see that it was you that blinded her. So she lived her life in a combination of self-pity and anger. Soon you found her lashing out at people who would be sympathetic, screaming at them to leave her alone or to mind their own business.
She even started snapping at mom and dad. It was as if she was trying to be independent, but you knew it wouldn’t work for her. She was always relying on others for support, whether it was her friends or her family. They were always around to help her or give her what she needed she didn’t have to learn what it’d be like to be alone.
Her life was all planned out for her as well, and she didn’t even realize it. She was going to be sitting comfortable for the rest of her life after only a decade or two of work. But because of you, the dreams of a happy and comfortable life was shattered. You were the driving force behind her misfortune, the tables were turned and there was nothing she could do.
She hated it, she hated you. Oh did she hate you. Her last visual memory is of you as you took her sense away from her. More of her days pass by in a blur, those days turn to weeks, and those weeks turn into months. You find her sitting on her bed again during the evening hours. But tonight is different from the other nights she’s spent. Your sister’s voice coming from next to you startles you. You turn to her as she explains what you’re seeing.
“Anonymous, I’ve spent so many days loathing you and everyone around me. I hated myself too. Those scars and my eyes made me look like a freak.” She turns away from the scene playing and looks up to you. “I was so depressed the thought of suicide crossed my mind more than once. Because of you my normal life was over and I was forced to live a new one.” As your sister speaks she turns her whole body so she’s facing you. “Not once for the first eight months could I understand why I was the one being punished. That was until I realized that I deserved it.” Your attention is drawn back to the scene. Your sister seems to have that same realization in the memory, “That, led me to think if I wasn’t such a…” she starts, unsure of what to call herself.
“Cunt, you were a cunt.”
She nods, “Yeah, we’ll go with that one. If I wasn’t like that then you wouldn’t have snapped. When I finally realized it was my own fault, I started thinking about how I drove you to be so angry. I didn’t know how much rage you kept bottled up. Because of me you had no one to turn to.” She looks down at the ground as she speaks. “You were all alone and all I did was made it worse. Not even mom and dad listened to you, and that must have been horrible.” she shivers, “From when we were kids, through school, and even in college I didn’t let up. I didn’t take the time to see what I was really doing to you, and all you did was take it in stride. You’re a lot stronger than me, I’ll give you that one Anon.” you sister’s giggling becomes choked up through her soft sobbing.
You pay her no mind as you watch the events of the rest of her year play in front of you. She told mom and dad everything during dinner one night. She told them about how she treated you, about how school life really was for you. Your sister lists off each and every lie she could remember. When she finished she was in tears and all your parents could do was sit there stoic and silent. Your mom and dad would recall the times you’d come to them crying about her.
Neither listened to you, both thought you were lying. There were times where they’d talk about you and laugh at how ridiculous your claims were. There was no way that their darling angel would do something like that to her brother, but hearing it from her mouth, it was like their whole perspective about you shattered like glass.
Both were angry with you for doing something like that to her. They wanted to see you punished for what you’ve done. They wanted you to be tried and found guilty. To be forced into prison and left to rot for doing such an unspeakable evil to your own kin. To think otherwise after nearly a year has gone by, it was a lot for them to take in. The final scene ends with your mother crying into her napkin, your father looking at his hands in deep thought, and your sister looking down at her empty plate. When darkness is all that remains you turn to your sister to find her sobbing. Her whole body is shivering as she forces out more words.
“I’m so sorry, I did everything I could to get mom and dad to see the truth, but it’ll never be enough. I can’t take back everything I’ve done, I made you into a monster… my own brother…” her breathing is erratic, but she continues. “B-but no one’s mad you anymore, mom and dad miss you, I miss you, please… please come home.” She pleads.
“I-I want to be the sis-sister I should have been. I’ll do anything I can to make things right,” she wraps her arms around you and clings. A chance to start over back on Earth; it would be easy to have Discord send you back, you’re sure of it. He’ll probably be glad to get rid of you. You could find a phone and call home, and then you could be a family again, a real one. Sure it would take some time to adjust, but your life on Earth could be a happy one.
Your dad might be able to make a few calls so you can put your journalism experience to work, and you’d get to have those home cooked meals you loved so much. The more that you think about it the more homesick you become. You miss that old house back in your suburban neighborhood, the peaceful summers, and the calm winters.
You even missed your neighbors, if that were possible. You’d be free from your factory job and your apartment, and you’d be safe and warm in a decent bed. You would have entertainment; you might even make a few friends. With your sister being on your side instead of making your life hell it would be possible…
But look at what you’d be giving up if you wanted such a life. Your mind recalls the week you’ve spent here. Could you really leave them behind now? You have real friends in a real place. You aren’t alone anymore. You have a home here, the ponies and other creatures around you are pleasurable company.
The ponies within Ponyville don’t shrink away from you in fear. They don’t look down on you or avoid you; they see you as a great person. Hell, they think you’re a hero. To them you’re someone to be looked up to, to be respected. These ponies have given you something you thought you’d never get to experience… a place to belong…
Some of them even like you as something more than a friend. Here you don’t have to be alone, and as far as you know there’s no war and the only corruption comes from Discord. And even he isn’t all that bad. He’s wacky and a bit misguided, but he isn’t evil. Your sister looks to you with tear filled eyes. You separate yourself from her and speak.
“Listen, you can’t change what’s happened, and I can’t change what I did. What’s done is done. But the regret your feeling, the anger I’ve had to deal with, we can’t let that control us and make us who we are.” You comb through your head, hoping to find the right words to say. “You can’t live your life thinking about how things would have gone were you a nicer person nor can I allow myself to wonder how things would be had I stayed that night. If we do that we go nowhere.”
You admit you’re probably not the best at things like this, but you believe your words will be able to convey what you want to say. “I was stuck in the past for so long. I was so angry and spiteful towards you, mom, dad, and everyone else in my life that I let it lead me down a very lonely path. A path that had me in repetition, and I probably would have been that way until the day I died.” You find yourself looking at your hands. “I would never get to experience what life had to offer me, what risks I could take, but thanks to you, thanks to this,” you motion around at the endless expanse, “I think I can move on now.” you offer your sister a genuine smile.
“I don’t harbor any feelings of hatred towards you or our parents’ anymore. So thank you; thank you for showing me this. For once I truly feel at peace. And sister, if you want to make it up to me, you only have to promise me one thing.” You say while backing away from her.
“What’s that?” she asks, wiping away her tears as she does so.
“Promise me you guys will move on. To just keep me in your hearts and remember the few good times we shared, because I have no intention of coming home.” As you speak to your sister you hear the sound of hoof steps. You look around you to find Twilight, Lyra, Eris and the other’s you’ve managed to befriend standing around you, and you smile. “I’ve made friends here, formed bonds, and I can’t leave them behind, I won’t. I’m staying where I am. I’ve started a new life here on a new world, and I intend to see it through to the end.”
You sister looks to the creatures around you before nodding, “I can’t force you to come home, but I’m glad you’ve found people, err, ponies that make you happy, that’s all I wanted. I guess this is goodbye then?” You nod, “I guess I’ll see you around?” you sister asks with a sad smile.
“No, you won’t.” you respond while shaking your head. With a final wave your sister slowly fades from your vision as do your friends, leaving you all alone yet again in the endless expanse. Though the peace doesn’t last, whatever lays within claws with such ferocity it causes you to cry out in pain. You find yourself brought to your knees as this thing slowly climbs its way up your throat.
You start to gag as a black viscous fluid starts to trickle from your open maw. Then the dry heaving starts. More and more of it pours from your mouth, you feel as though there’ll be no end to this. Finally, it’s over, you’ve vomited everything. The only reason you can point it out among the rest of the dark area is because the watery substance has various colors swimming through it.
You find yourself moving as far away from it as possible. Arms begin to reach out from within it; clawing at the air in a desperate hope to escape. You can’t seem to find your breath. Its otherworldly roar causes you to put your hands over your ears. You watch as the color begins to change. Starting from the fingertips the liquid forms into a solid gray stone. The sound of it cracking can be heard as the new color spreads along all the arms, and through the puddle you’ve expelled. It stays frozen in place.
“W-what the hell was that,” you say when you’re finally able to breathe again. You don’t get to ponder it for too long before finding yourself being forced up and into the sky…
You awake gasping for air. You look around the area, in hopes of recognizing where you are. When you realize you’re in the zebra’s hut you’re finally able to calm down. You turn to find her sitting on her bed, watching you through curious eyes.
“You said many a thing while you were at rest. I believe you no longer feel any weight in your chest?” As your breathing regulates to a normal pace you nod. Whatever she gave you, it worked. When you nod she beams at you, “Knowing you are well I am glad to hear, thinking you would pass in your sleep filled me with fear. My brew gets rid of impurities that much is true. Do you believe it worked for you?” The zebra tilts her head as if confused.
“Yes, it-it really did. Thank you,” you start but you can’t finish since you don’t know the zebra’s name.
“Zecora is what I am called; you never hearing of me has me appalled.”
You shrug, “sorry about that, but because of the chaos no one said anything, I guess.” It’s a terrible explanation, that much is obvious.
“Anonymous, that excuse is poor, just for that I should force you out the door.” The zebra giggles at her own joke and you do in turn. You get to your feet; your cuts aren’t as painful as they were when you got here, and everything seems to have cleared up. Your mind isn’t racing a mile a minute any longer. “It is unwise for you to move right now, why don’t go lie back down?” Zecora suggests before motioning to the makeshift bed you’re standing on.
You would really like to leave, you want to check in on your friends, but you don’t know the Everfree. You have no idea how to get out of here and it being dark won’t help. So you do as Zecora says. You get back on the makeshift bed and cover up with your little black blanket.
“It is good to see that you’re willing to listen to me. I believe you need more sleep, your woken state I shall not keep.” The zebra says before getting comfortable under her sheets.
“Hey Zecora, are you against taking in assistants?” you ask while getting comfortable on the floor. Zecora’s voice comes as you snuggle into your pillow.
“Help is always something I need, what may I ask caused you to suggest such a kind deed?” You figured the answer would be obvious to her.
“Because you went out of your way to help someone you don’t even know, so I want to help out, though I doubt I’ll be able to repay you for what you’ve done.” Zecora’s laugh catches you off guard.
“Anonymous, you’ve helped me more than you might think. Your presence in Ponyville is more than enough I think. If anything it is I that owes you, for you’re setting straight what was once askew. Now please rest for tomorrow you will really be put to the test.” Zecora says no more as she rolls over in her bed. As sleep’s embraces comes to claim you… a certain sensation prevents it from doing so. You turn to Zecora’s bed.
“Zecora, where’s your bathroom?” She points a hoof to her front door.
“Thanks.” You say as you get to your feet. After taking the time to relieve yourself, and wiping yourself clean with a large amount of leaves, you go back in Zecora’s hut to get some sleep.