Anon drinks it all away


                                            >Be Anon.

                                            >The guy about to throw himself into the deep end.

                                            >You may be exaggerating, but new and scary things are approaching.

                                            >You’re currently in a library.

                                            >Not just any library: Twilight Sparkle’s library.

                                            >If you weren’t so high-strung, you’d be able to appreciate the cozy aesthetic of a hollowed out tree; filled to bursting with all manner of books.

                                            >Even books listing the various effects that sword-fighting between stallions has had on the male-to-female ratio in Equestria.

                                            >What that’s implying, you couldn’t care less at the moment.

                                            >All that matters for now, is losing yourself in this bottle.

                                            >You reread the label, as you have many times in the last five minutes.

                                            >”ForgetMePlease: One of a kind! Everything you ever needed from a bitter, intoxicating liquid! Prepare to forget everything unimportant or harmful about your life for the next ten minutes, or your money back! Unless you acquired this through illegal means, in which case; go buck yourself! [In a smart disappearing bottle!]”

                                            >Just as off-putting as the other dozen times.

                                            >It all begins, and ends, with a simple drink.

                                            >You would say it’s poetic, but it’s just sad, really.

                                            >Like the fact that you’re acting akin to a child about to have their teeth pulled, or receive a big, scary shot.

                                            >You’re not afraid to admit when your human side shows.

                                            >Especially now that you’re the only one in the universe.

                                            >Gotta pick up the slack!

                                            >You sigh.

                                            >Well, you’ve wasted her time long enough.

                                            >As much as you’re dreading this, it’s easier to suck it up and do it, than it is to come to grips with how much of a bother you’ve been.

                                            >This is the only way forward.

                                            >The only way everyone can be happy.

                                            >Correction: the only way to stop your awkwardness from making everyone unhappy.

                                            >Not wanting to dwell on... anything, any longer, you move over to the couch.

                                            >Yeah, there’s a couch in the middle of the library.

                                            >Got a problem with that?

                                            >Not waiting for a response, you sit— gently; so as not to break the small, pony furniture.

                                            >Once settled, you uncap the bottle and peer into its contents; oblivious to its own power, and uncaring at the unethical changes it’s about to make.

                                            >You take a moment to stare upwards, past the ceiling and into the sky behind it.

                                            >What you find...

                                            “Isn’t what I was hoping for.”


                                            >Be Twilight.

                                            >Be also right outside your library’s window, which also happens to be your house, and wearing an invisibility spell across your shapely body.

                                            >N-not to say that you’re...

                                            >A-anyways!

                                            >Hoo-wee, he’s sure taking a while!

                                            >The last thing you want to do is rush him, though.

                                            >It’s best if he does this of his own volition, as he did when he accepted these terms to begin with.

                                            >Honestly, you’re a little surprised that things have turned out this way.

                                            >It’s almost too dire to gush about how exciting this new line of research is.

                                            >Almost, but just not quite.

                                            >But before all that, he’s your friend.

                                            >Not a project, despite your... antics, from time to time.

                                            >Oh?

                                            >He must’ve moved to the couch while you were distracted.

                                            >The bottle looks open from here.

                                            >Now he’s... staring at the ceiling?

                                            >Your ears perk up as you hear him begin to speak.

                                            >”Isn’t what I was hoping for.”

                                            >Huh?

                                            >What does he mean by that?

                                            >Is he still torn up about being pulled from his home?

                                            >Well, duh!

                                            >Nice observational skills, Twilight!

                                            >...Forget it, it’s almost time.

                                            >You hope.

                                            >You just want him to get better.

                                            >He’s an incredible... person.

                                            >The beauty of his character is hidden behind this wall of defenses he accidentally built.

                                            >The kind of defenses better cleared using an ice pick rather than a chainsaw.

                                            >Actually, both of those sound pretty violent.

                                            >Correction: the kind of defenses better cleared with a... warm hug!

                                            >A-and a smile!

                                            >...Maybe a squee or two?

                                            >Ah!

                                            >He’s about to drink it!


                                            >Anon, is there a better time to be you?

                                            >Plenty, but now aren’t those times.

                                            >Now’s the time to get this over with.

                                            >You shakily raise the bottle’s opening to your lips, the fear that wracks your body making it difficult to hold.

                                            >What does it feel like to lose a part of yourself? Even just temporarily?

                                            >You’d say you’re about to find out, but you won’t remember something as silly as that anyhow.

                                            >The bottle makes contact with your mouth.

                                            >It feels like a bandage is slowly being ripped off of an unhealed, festering wound.

                                            >Only, psychologically.

                                            >Feeling brave, you turn the bottle upwards and leave the rest to gravity.

                                            >The liquid is stopped short as it rests against your closed lips.

                                            >You close your eyes in frustration; hot, angry tears making their path of destruction well known across your face.

                                            >What a joke.

                                            >You’re lucky you can’t look at yourself now.

                                            >The sight may have been the last thing you needed to convince yourself that you’re a lost cause.

                                            >You snort in amusement.

                                            >At least no one is watching.

                                            >Despite yourself, you find a small smile tugging at your dry, cracked lips; the pain from doing so goes ignored.

                                            >Must be magic, ‘cause you can’t explain that shit.

                                            >In this moment, temporarily free from yourself, you’re able to part your lips and finally accept the liquid into your body.

                                            >It tastes like iron.

                                            >Iron and hell.

                                            >It goes down with no resistance, partly do to your refusal to taste it any longer than necessary.

                                            >Many harrowing gulps later, and it’s done.

                                            >The bottle slips from your grasp, and from existence itself as well.

                                            >N-now...

                                            >You.

                                            >Wait.


                                            >Be Twilight.

                                            >There’s plenty of ponies, and inanimate objects, that you’d prefer being right now.

                                            >Being Twilight means watching her friend struggle to even drink the mixture as necessary.

                                            >It... *is* necessary, right?

                                            >Of course!

                                            >You thought long and hard about the simple solutions to Anon’s problems.

                                            >But, there’s no simple solution to a problem this complex; thus, material-based measures needed to be taken.

                                            >Amidst the tears, and internal— as well as external, struggle, you spot a smile on his lips.

                                            >Only Anon.

                                            >He winces slightly, and you assume he finally allowed himself to drink it.

                                            >You can’t help but tear up slightly yourself at how much trouble he’s going through.

                                            >You just want everything to get better, as naive as that sounds.

                                            >Whether this is the right choice, or the wrong one for him, *you* have no choice but to follow through.

                                            >No time to feel bad about yourself, Twilight.

                                            >You snort in amusement.

                                            >Anon does that enough for the both of you.

                                            >A smile finds your face as well.

                                            >However, you wouldn’t dare to even *think* such a thing unless you planned to make it into a past-tense.

                                            >Someday, you hope— dream, even, that you’ll both be able to look back and laugh at all of this.

                                            >You shake your head, your smile gone; as if it never appeared to begin with.

                                            >For now, though, it’s time to help your friend.


                                            >Be Rainbow Dash.

                                            >You chuckle to yourself slightly.

                                            >Yeah, your awesomeness surprises even you, sometimes.

                                            >As usual, you’re lazily drifting through the air; making high speeds and daring tricks look effortless to all who see you fly by.

                                            >You’ll have to find some way to spice things up a bit before it gets too stale.

                                            >Maybe gather a bunch of clouds and then kick them really hard while they’re near unsuspecting ponies?

                                            >Nah, you did that yesterday.

                                            >Landing on a comfy-looking cloud, you devote some serious brain power to deciding on your next activity.

                                            >You end up straining more than actually thinking.

                                            >Ow.

                                            >When in doubt, to Twilight’s!

                                            >You snort in amusement.

                                            >You only plan to crash there until you can think of something better to do.

                                            >Chuckling at your own genius, you take off from the spot that once contained a cloud; now only trace amounts of static and vapor left to dissipate.

                                            >Whistling to yourself, you make a beeline for the innocent library.

                                            >Picture it: “Fire sale! Everything must go! No shelf left untouched!”

                                            >You roll your eyes with a smirk as you feel your next thought forming.

                                            >You’re sure even thinking the word “fire” in the same context as “library” is setting off alarm bells in Twilight’s head from here.

                                            >A fire isn’t what she should be worried about, however.

                                            >Laughing maniacally, you close the rest of the distance rather fast.

                                            >You see it!

                                            >Your favorite window!

                                            >Closing your eyes, you let your muscle-memory take you the rest of the way.

                                            >Miraculously as always, the window doesn’t shatter; instead depositing you on the other side of it and into a neatly organized shelf of books.

                                            >The “This is fun!” part of you slightly overrides the “sorry for the fifth time, Twilight” part.

                                            >You take a moment, just laying buried beneath the sea of knowledge not meant for you.

                                            >Smiling your awe-inspiring smile, you rise from your blanket of books.

                                            >What you find...

                                            “Isn’t what I was hoping for.”

                                            >Instead of Twilight raving about the front door’s existence, you see her in front of Anon.

                                            >Crying.

                                            >”T-this isn’t how it’s supposed to be!” She wails. “It isn’t right!”

                                            >You shake your head, trying your best to clear it of any oddities caused by the crash.

                                            >Your smile gone, you try to get a hold of yourself.

                                            >Never taking your eyes off of Anon, you walk over to them.

                                            >He looks... really distant.

                                            >More than you’ve ever seen.

                                            >You stop when you reach Twilight’s side.

                                            >She fails to notice, and continues.

                                            >”It’s been ten minutes!” She snaps, though you’re unsure who she’s talking to. “Give him back!”

                                            “Twilight, what’s going on?” You carefully ask.

                                            >She finally stops.

                                            >Still sobbing slightly, she turns to face you.

                                            >”R-Rainbow... I’m...” She’s at a loss for words.

                                            “Yeah? What is it, Twi?” You try your best to keep the panic from showing in your voice.

                                            >She stares into your eyes, her lips preventing her from settling what she’ll say next.

                                            >Seeing no end to her un-consensual silent vow in sight, she simply throws herself into you and embraces you like never before.

                                            >Despite the foul circumstances, you find yourself blushing from the sudden closeness.

                                            >She mumbles incoherent apologies, crying into your fur in an attempt to comfort herself.

                                            >You return the sudden show of affection once you’ve recovered from the initial shock.

                                            >For even the smallest fraction of time, everything is forgotten except this moment.

                                            “Hey, Twilight?” You gently try to get her attention.

                                            >Surprisingly, she looks up at you.

                                            >Ignoring how close her face is to yours, you continue.

                                            “Is it possible that you could... maybe explain what happened here?”

                                            >From your position, you see many thoughts flash by those deep, literate eyes of hers.

                                            >After only a moments’ hesitation, she shakes her head; more tears coming loose in the process.

                                            >You nod in affirmation before pulling her close once again.

                                            >Looking past her, you’re unfortunate enough to see that Anon has still yet to move.

                                            >Or blink.

                                            >...

                                            >You never hung out with him much.

                                            >You would see him around, but that slowly tapered off as the days went by...

                                            >As he became a shut-in.

                                            >You never bothered asking what changed, you only ever heard what others had to say about it.

                                            >You always thought he was too—

                                            >An audible gasp leaves your lips as you violently halt that train of thought.

                                            >Growling under your breath, you shut your eyes in an attempt to stop the tears from escaping.

                                            >It doesn’t work very well.

                                            >You feel Twilight shift in your grasp as she pulls back to look at you.

                                            >”Rainbow?” She looks at your pained expression with worry. “Are you okay?”

                                            >You suddenly stop.

                                            >As your eyes slowly open, they’re colored with sadness; then quickly highlighted by anger.

                                            >Towards yourself, and everyone like you.

                                            “No.” You resolutely say, looking over Anon’s form one more time; thankful for the feeling of emptiness and regret the action gives you. “And I never will be again.”


                                            The End.