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Different: A Young Anon Story

By: PaleNarrator on Jul 18th, 2012 | syntax: None | size: 23.99 KB | hits: 680 | expires: Never

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1L6GAcqAVE
>Carrots.
>You absolutely hated carrots.
>Mrs. Caretaker would always feed you carrots, and you would always hate the carrots she gave you.
>You hate carrots so much, that you are refusing to even touch your plate right now.
>Mrs. Caretaker isn’t particularly happy about that.
>”Anonymous.”
>Don’t answer her.
>Just keep glaring at your carrots.
>Mrs. Caretaker clears her throat.
>”A n o n y m o u s.”
>Nope, not gonna answer you.
>Just gonna keep hating these carrots.
>They weren’t even steamed carrots.
>They were just cold, hard as rock carrots on a dirty plate.
>Mrs. Caretaker is right behind you now, a glare on her dumb pony face.
>Out of all the ponies you knew, she would have to be the dumbest.
>And the fattest.
>But mostly the dumbest.
>”Anonymous, I will NOT say this again. Eat your carrots. Now.”
“Make me!”
>You stick your tongue out at her.
>That’ll show her.
>Mrs. Caretaker furrows her brow and smacks you hard on the back of your head.
>”You are nothing but a worthless little troublemaker, Anonymous. Ten years old and still fussing at your elders?”
“At least you know you’re old.”
>”…Fine, you don’t want to eat your carrots?”
“No! They’re gross and moldy and I hate them! Just like YOU.”
>You stick your tongue back at her in defiance.
>She’d get the message eventually.
>Another crack to your head from her hoof, and she picks up your plate.
>”Fine then, I’ll just give them to Mahonie over here. He happens to LOVE my carrots.”
>She trots over to a small white horse with a blonde mane and lays your plate of carrots in front of him, and he sneers at you while gobbling them up quick and greedy like.
>You hated Mahonie.
>He was just as dumb and mean as Mrs. Caretaker, but not as fat.
>Mrs. Caretaker was very fat.
>And mean.
>And dumb.
>”Now go to your room. You get no dinner tonight, you little monkey child.”
>Mahonie and a few other fillies and foals chime up in unison.
>”Monkey Boy, Monkey Boy, Stinky Funny Monkey Boy!”
>You glare at them as best as you can as you hop out of your seat and head for your room upstairs.
>You make an effort to make the stomps of your feet on the stairs as audible as they can be.
>Stupid Mrs. Caretaker.
>Stupid Mahonie.
>Stupid orphanage.
>You reach for the doorknob of your door, stepping into the cramped, tiny room you called “home.”
>You slump onto the bed, a simple, bare mattress with a thin, green blanket dotted with holes.
>Your stomach growls at you, but you tell it to hush up in your head.
>You didn’t need any dinner.
>Especially not any old, cold, moldy carrots.
>Rolling over, you peer out your window at the grey, cloud covered sky as the beginnings of rain begin to pitter patter against your window.
You Are Anonymous.
>Telling your gut to hush itself and curling beneath your blanket, you begin to slip off to sleep.
And You Really, Really Hated Those Carrots.
“Different”
By PaleNarrator
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaQtKZUKlVg
>Fillydelphia was a rainy city.
>It rained in the morning.
>And it rained in the evening.
>Sometimes it even rained in the afternoon.
>If someone were to ask you, “What’s Fillydelphia like?” you would answer simply.
>Wet.
>You didn’t really mind though. You liked running around in the rain, jumping in the puddles and such.
>Your clothes would get soggy, sure, but you didn’t care.
>It was fun.
>Finding fun in this old orphanage was hard, but you got by just fine.
>Who needs friends?
>You have puddles.
>You rub your eyes as you wake up and roll out of bed, wrapping your blanket around you like a big, green robe.
>This blanket and those puddles out there were your only friends in this place.
>All the other kids didn’t like you.
>You were different.
>They didn’t like different.
>They liked to make fun of different though, and they were pretty good at it.
>But over time, you got good at ignoring it.
>Well…
>For the most part.
>You scuttle your way across the hall as quickly as you can, your blanket slightly trailing behind you a bit.
>You had to get to the bathroom first.
>Sundance would always get there first and use up ALL the hot water, and then Dream Weaver would end up getting her nasty green fur all over the good soap bar.
>You wanted a warm shower and a clean bar of soap for once, at least.
>You’re almost at the door, and you can’t hear the shower running.
>Yes!
>Nice clean Anon, coming right up!
>Your smile turns to a confused pout as something trips you up and you fall flat on your face, you arms still under your blanket and unable to catch yourself.
“…morning Mahonie…”
>”Morning, Dweeb. Cry yourself to sleep last night?”
>Mahonie jeers at you and takes his hoof of the bit of blanket he stepped on to make you fall, tearing the corner of it as he did so.
“Oh wow. That’s a good one. No, really. I am very impressed.”
>You roll to your side and stand yourself up, finally freeing your arms but keeping the blanket wrapped around you.
“I’d like to stay for you to make fun of me but, you know, shower time.”
>You turn around to walk away, but Mahonie pulls you back hard, knocking you to your butt.
>”Not so fast, I’m gonna shower first today.”
“B-but I was first! I got here before you!”
>”Don’t care, monkey boy. What are you gonna do, stop me?”
>You puff up your cheeks, your chest too while you’re at it, and stand up in front of him.
>You kind of feel like a super hero, what with your blanket cape and all.
>Then you feel like a wimp as Mahonie shoves you back onto your butt, laughing as he does.
>”Hahaha, why don’t you stick to crying in your room, monkey. It’s what you’re good at!”
>He spins around and walks into the bathroom.
>You glare hard, your anger simmering as you stand back up and walk to the door, standing next to it while waiting your turn.
>Eventually the others arrive to wait as well.
>This orphanage wasn’t all that big. Only about six or seven ponies lived here with you.
>All of you were taken care of by Mrs. Caretaker.
>She treated plenty of the other orphans really well.
>She cooked them hot meals.
>She made them warm blankets.
>She read them story books when they went to bed.
>But not you.
>You were given cold meals that tasted hard and stale.
>Your blanket was cold and had holes in the end of it from mice chewing on it a few years ago.
>And she never, ever, read you a story book before you went to bed.
>You were different.
>And Mrs. Caretaker didn’t like different.
>So in turn, Mrs. Caretaker didn’t like you.
>That was okay though.
>Sure, you wanted a nice hot meal.
>You wanted a nice, warm blanket with no holes in the bottom of it.
>And you would love a good night story.
>But you didn’t need those things, and you certainly didn’t want them coming from big, dumb, fatty Mrs. Caretaker.
>She kind of looked like a great, big, yellow cabbage.
>And she smelled just as bad as a great, big, yellow cabbage as well.
>You crinkle your nose and shake your head a little just remembering the way she smelled.
>Yuck.
>No, you certainly didn't need any of things from Mrs. Caretaker.
>You didn't need any of those things from anyp0ny,
>But you certainly wanted them.
>You hear the shower stop, and soon enough Mahonie walks out of the bathroom, shaking the water form his wet mane and coat onto you.
>”All yours, loser. Ha!”
>He walks off, and you call him all the bad words you know about in your head.
>You walk into the bathroom and lock the door, getting undressed and stepping into the shower.
>When you feel cold water hit your skin and give you goose bumps, you realize that Mahonie used up all the warm water.
>You look at the bar of soap.
>There was dirty white and blonde hair all over it, covering its normal minty green color.
>You sigh, staring directly ahead into the tile wall as you’re pelted in freezing cold water, not even bothering to soap up.
>You reach for a bottle of shampoo, but when you squeeze the contents into your hand, you’re only met with a cold water and hairy soap cocktail.
>He dumped out the shampoo.
>And filled it with his bath water.
>More bad words float in your head as you squint your eyes in frustration, crinkling the plastic shampoo bottle in your fist.
>One day, Mahonie.
>One.
>Day.
>Once you finish your “shower” you dry yourself off and step up to the sink, reaching for your blue toothbrush.
>There…
>Was hair.
>In the toothbrush.
>Mahonie's hair was in the toothbrush.
>…
“Darnit.”
>Oh it felt good to use a bad word out loud.
>After finding a spare toothbrush in a dusty drawer, you brush your teeth, slip your clothes back on, wrap your blanket back around yourself, and take your leave.
>Celestia help you if Mahonie somehow finds your breakfast and wipes his stupid flank all over it.
>You shuffle down the creaky, old stairs down to the kitchen for breakfast.
>By the looks of it, all the fillies and colts were having apple slices and orange juice.
>You can feel your mouth tingle at the thought of some nice orange juice running down your throat.
>But when you look at your seat, your heart drops and your mouth gets parched right quick.
>A slice of bread and a glass of water.
>A slice of bread.
>And a glass of water.
>Truly this was the breakfast of champions.
>You sit down, staring at the white slice of bread in front of you.
>Looking over at Mahonie, you see that he’s grinning at you while popping apple slices into his gullet.
>Sighing, you pick up the bread and begin to bite down on it.
>Wait.
>You stop, barely touching the bread with your teeth, and examine it.
>Green.
>Yeah, yeah that was green on your bread.
>Your bread has green on it.
“Why is there mold on EVERYTHING in this house?!”
>Some of the other orphans giggle at your outburst, while Mahonie neighs in delight at your anguish.
“Forget this. I’m leaving.”
>Before you can do anything, you smell the hint of great, big, yellow cabbage.
>Double Darnit.
>”Just WHERE do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going out.”
>”It’s raining outside. You will do no such thing. Now finish your breakfast.”
“But my bread has green on it.”
>”It’s good for you.”
“No it’s not. Green bread is bad bread.”
>”And what makes you think you know what’s good and bad for you better than I do?”
“Well for one thing I’m not a big, smelly mare-monster who smells like bad cabbage. That’s one thing.”
>She gawks at you before raising her hoof, but you duck and run out of the kitchen and out the front door, blanket on your back and your feet bare.
>”I swear when you come back here I will whip you from ear to ear, you no good little monkey!”
>You turn around, give her a raspberry, and dart off down the road, splashing through puddles as you do.
>Good riddance!
>You’d rather play in the rain any day than stay in that place with those ponies.
>Finding a nice alleyway filled with puddles of all shapes and sizes, you get to work.
>Nothing like a good puddle splash to get the heart and feet a pulsing!
>Leaping from each watery spot to the next, you find yourself grinning far more than you should be.
>You run through alleys and dart through small gardens, playing pretend as you do.
>While climbing trees you were a clever huntsman, tracking your prey with skill and cunning.
>When you found a small cardboard box, you became a pirate, sailing the Seven Puddles, looking for gold and other booty to be plundered.
>And when you found a large stick, you were a noble knight, sworn to protect your fair queen from the evil sorcerers and bandits that plagued your land.
>Yes, all in all a fun day to be had indeed.
>You wish you had someone else to play it with, but for now you were content with it just being you.
>As dusk approached your stomach began to growl, yearning for food that was NOT green when it wasn’t supposed to BE green.
>Peaking around the corner of an alley, you can spot a mare selling pears on the street corner.
>Patting your pocket and feeling the three bits you had, you dart over to her.
>You’d found those bits a couple of months ago on the street.
>You hadn’t dared show them to anyp0ny in the orphanage, lest you get robbed.
>As you make your way down to her, she gives you a smile.
>The sign says that it’s three bits for a pear.
>You grin back at her widely as you dig for your bits, handing them to her as she plucks a ripe pear from the top of her cart.
>You take it, your gob already watering, and pluck it into your mouth as you wave thank you and goodbye to the mare.
>She was nice.
>Walking back to the orphanage wouldn’t be too long of a trip, but you decided not to eat the pear yet.
>Oh no, you’d wait till you got to bed.
>Then you could enjoy your tasty treat without having to worry about being soaked to the bone.
>As you walk down the streets, eyes fixed on your ripe, golden prize, your ears pick up a strange sound.
>Once you listen closer, you realize what it is.
>Mahonie.
>And from the sound of it, he was up to his jerky bullying ways.
>You crane your neck, and spot an alleyway.
>Must be where he is.
>You quietly make your way over to the alleyway, peaking your head around the corner to get a better view.
>”Ew, just look at those wings! Dream Catcher, look at her wings!”
>”Ewww what are you, some kind of bug?”
>”Just… just leave me alone.”
>They were picking on somp0ny, but you couldn’t get a good look at her.
>You could see a jagged horn, and a pair of deep green eyes.
>”Hey Mahonie, you think her wings work the same way a fly’s does?”
>”What, you mean when you tear them off of ‘em?”
>”Please… I’m sorry I’m like this. Just please, leave me alone…”
>”Who said you could talk, “Buggy?”
>”Don’t call me that!”
>”Ha! That’s just what you are! A bug!”
>”I am not!”
>You could feel your grip on the stick you found earlier tighten, your teeth bared.
>You weren’t Anon right now.
>You were a knight.
>And you had to save a queen.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_E9TyGxxosk
>You step into the shadows of the alley, placing your pear on the ground next to you.
“Leave her alone, Mahonie.”
>The two colts turn to look at you, and Mahonie sneers.
>”Get lost, monkey. We’re just playing with our new friend here.”
“I said leave her alone.”
>You raise the stick slightly, clenching it in both of your hands.
>”Aw, what’cha gonna do? Hit me with your big bad stick? Get lost, loser.”
>They both turn back to the filly, and that’s when you cut loose.
>You sprint down at Mahonie and smack the stick into the back of his head, breaking it into pieces.
>”OW! What the he-“
>You tackle him, punching him over and over as you do.
>Making fun of you was bad enough.
>But making fun of some poor filly?
>Not going to happen.
>Not with Sir Anon on the job.
>Dream Catcher bucks you in the chest and you hit the brick wall behind you.
>Then Mahonie gets up, and the two of them begin to wail on you.
>Kicks to the chest.
>Punches to the face.
>You were going to be covered in bruises tomorrow morning.
>But you put up a good fight.
>You swing madly at them, knocking them back as best you can as you stand between them and the filly with the crooked horn.
>”What is she, you’re marefriend or something?! You into weird freaks of nature?”
“Leave her alone! She hasn’t done anything to you!”
>”Oh forget this! C’mon Dream Catcher, we’re leaving. This monkey isn’t worth my time.”
>The two of them spit at you and walk out of the alley, heading back to the orphanage.
>You’re breathing heavy and you slump to the ground, cradling a bruised shoulder.
>You hope they didn’t see your pear down there.
>Just then, a tiny voice speaks up form behind you.
>”Um… are you alright?”
>You look back to the “queen” you just saved.
>Your eyes widen at the sight of her.
>Her hair was strange, aqua color. Almost blue, but not really, and the ends of it almost looked like they were made of webs.
>Her wings were thin and transparent, like a bug’s wings kind of.
>Her horn was crooked like you thought, remarking on the bends and twists in it.
>Her legs had… holes in them.
>Just like your blanket…
>But her eyes.
>Her eyes were…
>Lovely.
“…hi…”
>”Are you okay? They… they beat you up pretty badly.”
“Oh. Yeah. I’m alright. My shoulder hurts and my chest is all stingy, but I’m alright. Are you alright?”
>She nods, smiling shyly at you.
>”I am… thank you. For helping me, I mean.”
“Uh…huh…”
>You can’t stop staring at her.
>She’s just so…
>So…
>Different.
>”You’re freaked out by me, aren’t you?”
“What?”
>She bows her head and scuffs the ground, but looks back at you with confident defiance in her eyes.
>”Well go ahead! Be freaked out. Because one day, I’m gonna be a queen! My mommy told me so! Hmph!”
>She puffs her chest out proudly.
>You smile.
“Neat!”
>”That’s right, a qu-… what?”
“I think that’s cool! You’re cool.”
>”You… you’re not scared of me? Or repulsed? Or… anything?”
>You shake your head, still smiling.
“Nope!”
>”…why not?”
“Well what’s to be scared of?”
>”Um… well… uh…”
>She mumbles to herself and looks herself over.
>”My wings?”
“Neat.”
>”My hair?”
“Neat.”
>”My… fangs?”
>She opens her mouth, showing off two tiny fangs on her upper jaw.
“Haha, VERY neat!”
>Your stomach growls, and you rub your belly.
“Can you wait a second. I need to go grab my food.”
>You get up and limp your way down the alley, finding that the pear is still sitting there.
>Smiling, you take it and shuffle down to the filly with a crooked horn.
“Do you know any magic?”
>She nods hesitantly.
“Do you think you could break this in half?”
>You hold the pear out to her, and she squints her shining green eyes at it in concentration.
>A flash of green bursts from her horn, and the pear is cut in half, but something has happened to the filly.
>Her mane is now deep red, and her body is a white color.
“…um…”
>”What? Oh no, did I do it again?”
>She closes her eyes and concentrates, another flash of green sparking from her horn.
>She’s returned to normal, but she looks at you worriedly.
“That… was so COOL!”
>She looks at you in astonishment.
>”Really?”
“Yeah! You can change how you look? Like, at any time?”
>”Well, yes. But I’m not so good at it just yet… my mommy was teaching me how to do it!”
>She beams at you in even more pride.
“Where is she?”
>”Who?”
“Your mom.”
>She happy smile softens, and she looks to the floor.
>”Oh. She… well she got sick. She got sick and… I… I guess I don’t have a mommy anymore. So I ran away from home.”
>She looks back to you, some tears in her eyes.
>”What about you? Where’s your mommy.”
“Oh I don’t have a mom. I never did.”
>”R-…really?”
>You nod, giving her a smile.
“I guess we’re more alike than you think, huh?”
>”Yeah… yes I guess so… my name is Chrysalis.”
”Hehe, that’s a funny name. I like it. I’m Anonymous.”
>”I like your funny name too, Anonymous.”
>She gives you a smile and you hand her the half of your pear, the two of you eating in the back of that alleyway for some time.
>Rubbing your face, your left eye throbbing from the beating you just received, you look over to Chrysalis.
>She didn't really look like a pony.
>There were bits and pieces that looked like a pony.
>But she wasn't one.
>Not really.
>And you kind of liked that.
>There were so many ponies around here. There were ONLY ponies around here.
>It was nice to find somebody different.
>Still, you didn't know what she was.
"Hey uhm.. Chrisa-...Chry-..how do you say your name again?"
>She looks up at you, her mouth full of pear and mumbles, "Chryshalish."
>Covering her mouth, she swallows down her food.
>"Sorry, mouth was full. Chrysalis."
"Okay. Chrysalis. What are you, Chrysalis?"
>She tilts her head to the side, confused.
>"I'm a changeling!"
"Oh okay... what's a changeling?"
>Chrysalis' ears perk up and she gives a tiny smile of delight.
>"A changeling is like a pony, but we have a horn and a pair of wings, see?"
>Her transparent wings flap quickly, buzzing as they do, and she points to her horn.
>"And we have magic, and teeny tiny fangs- OOH! And we can change! That's why we're Changelings!"
"So you're like an alicorn then?"
>"What's an alicorn?"
"Alicorns have horns and wings."
>"Well that's NOT what I am. I am a Changeling. Alicorns don't sound as good as Changelings, anyhow. What are you?"
"Me?"
>She nods, looking you over.
>"You don't look anything like a pony... You have funny hooves!"
>She levitates on of your hands towards her face and she giggles.
>"They sort of look like monkey hands!"
"Haha... yeah..."
>A lot of ponies made that connection.
>You really didn't like it, mainly because you WEREN'T a monkey.
>Chrysalis spots the frown on your face and adopts one on hers as well.
>"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."
>She apologized.
>...nop0ny ever did that when they made fun of you.
>You give her a smile, and she returns it to you, her front teeth poking out of her mouth awkwardly.
>She darts her ears up, looking around the alley as if someone could be watching.
>"Want to keep a secret?"
>Taking a bite of your pear, you nod.
>A secret?
>You liked secrets. You were even better at keeping them.
>She scoots over closer to you and brings her mouth to your ear, whispering.
>"I'm a real princess!"
>You laugh.
>A princess.
>Right.
>Sure.
>As your giggling ceases, you see that she's staring harshly at you, her cheeks puffed up in frustration.
"Wait, really?"
>She nods vigorously.
"So that means your mom was-"
>"A queen, yup! And one day I'M gonna be queen of the Changelings."
>Wow, a real princess?
>As in, a princess, princess?
>...
"Wait, I saved you!"
>You grin wide at her, and she cocks her head to the side.
>"Well, yes. Yes you did!"
>Her eyes widen and she blushes a bit.
>Huh.
>Weird.
>"I should reward my little knight with a kiss from the princess!"
"What?"
>She leans close to you and quickly pecks your lips with a small kiss, giggling after she does so.
>You sort of just... sit there.
>"You're blushing."
"Shut up."
>You bury your face in your arms, curling up into your legs as Chrysalis continues to laugh at your embarrassment.
>The thought of kissing a girl was still pretty gross to you.
>Cooties and all.
>But Chrysalis didn't gross you out.
>She kind of made you feel... warm.
>Yeah.
>Warm.
>The two of you jump as lightning leaps across the sky and thunder rocks the alleyway you sit in.
>Did the storm come back?
>Suddenly rain.
>Rain everywhere.
>You take your blanket and sling it over Chrysalis's head as you stand up, the rain coming down hard around you.
"C'mon, we can't stay out in the storm like this."
>"Where are we going?"
"You can stay with me tonight. I have a bed, but my blanket is getting soaked so we can't really use that."
>"You... you'd let me stay with you?"
>She gets to her feet, the two of you standing underneath your blanket, hiding from the cold rain.
>Her eyes were wide, and pleading.
"Of course. That's what friends do."
>When you say the word "friend" she nuzzles into your chest, a few tears trailing down her face.
>"Thank you."
>She looks up to you with those eyes of hers.
>You couldn't help but feel even warmer when looking at them.
>"Do... do you want to be friends with me?... are you sure?..."
"Why wouldn't I want to be?"
>"It's just... I don't keep friends for long, Anon. They... they seem to end up leaving me..."
"We're different from everyone else, Chryssy. That makes us the best kind of friends."
>You let the blanket fall onto the two of you as you bring her in for a hug.
>It was the warmest you had ever felt in this cold, wet city.
>Warm and safe from all the bullies and cruel caretakers.
>So warm, that you barely even feel those tiny fangs nip at your neck.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoMVTtZ-cig
~END~

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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=C1L6GAcqAVE

>Carrots.
>You absolutely hated carrots.
>Mrs. Caretaker would always feed you carrots, and you would always hate the carrots she gave you.
>You hate carrots so much, that you are refusing to even touch your plate right now.
>Mrs. Caretaker isn’t particularly happy about that.
>”Anonymous.”
>Don’t answer her.
>Just keep glaring at your carrots.
>Mrs. Caretaker clears her throat.
>”A n o n y m o u s.”
>Nope, not gonna answer you.
>Just gonna keep hating these carrots.
>They weren’t even steamed carrots.
>They were just cold, hard as rock carrots on a dirty plate.
>Mrs. Caretaker is right behind you now, a glare on her dumb pony face.
>Out of all the ponies you knew, she would have to be the dumbest.
>And the fattest.
>But mostly the dumbest.
>”Anonymous, I will NOT say this again. Eat your carrots. Now.”
“Make me!”
>You stick your tongue out at her.
>That’ll show her.
>Mrs. Caretaker furrows her brow and smacks you hard on the back of your head.
>”You are nothing but a worthless little troublemaker, Anonymous. Ten years old and still fussing at your elders?”
“At least you know you’re old.”
>”…Fine, you don’t want to eat your carrots?”
“No! They’re gross and moldy and I hate them! Just like YOU.”
>You stick your tongue back at her in defiance.
>She’d get the message eventually.
>Another crack to your head from her hoof, and she picks up your plate.
>”Fine then, I’ll just give them to Mahonie over here. He happens to LOVE my carrots.”

>She trots over to a small white horse with a blonde mane and lays your plate of carrots in front of him, and he sneers at you while gobbling them up quick and greedy like.
>You hated Mahonie.
>He was just as dumb and mean as Mrs. Caretaker, but not as fat.
>Mrs. Caretaker was very fat.
>And mean.
>And dumb.
>”Now go to your room. You get no dinner tonight, you little monkey child.”
>Mahonie and a few other fillies and foals chime up in unison.
>”Monkey Boy, Monkey Boy, Stinky Funny Monkey Boy!”
>You glare at them as best as you can as you hop out of your seat and head for your room upstairs.
>You make an effort to make the stomps of your feet on the stairs as audible as they can be.
>Stupid Mrs. Caretaker.
>Stupid Mahonie.
>Stupid orphanage.
>You reach for the doorknob of your door, stepping into the cramped, tiny room you called “home.”
>You slump onto the bed, a simple, bare mattress with a thin, green blanket dotted with holes.
>Your stomach growls at you, but you tell it to hush up in your head.
>You didn’t need any dinner.
>Especially not any old, cold, moldy carrots.
>Rolling over, you peer out your window at the grey, cloud covered sky as the beginnings of rain begin to pitter patter against your window.

You Are Anonymous.

>Telling your gut to hush itself and curling beneath your blanket, you begin to slip off to sleep.

And You Really, Really Hated Those Carrots.

“Different”
By PaleNarrator

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uaQtKZUKlVg

>Fillydelphia was a rainy city.
>It rained in the morning.
>And it rained in the evening.
>Sometimes it even rained in the afternoon.
>If someone were to ask you, “What’s Fillydelphia like?” you would answer simply.
>Wet.
>You didn’t really mind though. You liked running around in the rain, jumping in the puddles and such.
>Your clothes would get soggy, sure, but you didn’t care.
>It was fun.
>Finding fun in this old orphanage was hard, but you got by just fine.
>Who needs friends?
>You have puddles.
>You rub your eyes as you wake up and roll out of bed, wrapping your blanket around you like a big, green robe.
>This blanket and those puddles out there were your only friends in this place.
>All the other kids didn’t like you.
>You were different.
>They didn’t like different.
>They liked to make fun of different though, and they were pretty good at it.
>But over time, you got good at ignoring it.
>Well…
>For the most part.
>You scuttle your way across the hall as quickly as you can, your blanket slightly trailing behind you a bit.
>You had to get to the bathroom first.
>Sundance would always get there first and use up ALL the hot water, and then Dream Weaver would end up getting her nasty green fur all over the good soap bar.
>You wanted a warm shower and a clean bar of soap for once, at least.

>You’re almost at the door, and you can’t hear the shower running.
>Yes!
>Nice clean Anon, coming right up!
>Your smile turns to a confused pout as something trips you up and you fall flat on your face, you arms still under your blanket and unable to catch yourself.
“…morning Mahonie…”
>”Morning, Dweeb. Cry yourself to sleep last night?”
>Mahonie jeers at you and takes his hoof of the bit of blanket he stepped on to make you fall, tearing the corner of it as he did so.
“Oh wow. That’s a good one. No, really. I am very impressed.”
>You roll to your side and stand yourself up, finally freeing your arms but keeping the blanket wrapped around you.
“I’d like to stay for you to make fun of me but, you know, shower time.”
>You turn around to walk away, but Mahonie pulls you back hard, knocking you to your butt.
>”Not so fast, I’m gonna shower first today.”
“B-but I was first! I got here before you!”
>”Don’t care, monkey boy. What are you gonna do, stop me?”
>You puff up your cheeks, your chest too while you’re at it, and stand up in front of him.
>You kind of feel like a super hero, what with your blanket cape and all.
>Then you feel like a wimp as Mahonie shoves you back onto your butt, laughing as he does.
>”Hahaha, why don’t you stick to crying in your room, monkey. It’s what you’re good at!”
>He spins around and walks into the bathroom.
>You glare hard, your anger simmering as you stand back up and walk to the door, standing next to it while waiting your turn.

>Eventually the others arrive to wait as well.
>This orphanage wasn’t all that big. Only about six or seven ponies lived here with you.
>All of you were taken care of by Mrs. Caretaker.
>She treated plenty of the other orphans really well.
>She cooked them hot meals.
>She made them warm blankets.
>She read them story books when they went to bed.
>But not you.
>You were given cold meals that tasted hard and stale.
>Your blanket was cold and had holes in the end of it from mice chewing on it a few years ago.
>And she never, ever, read you a story book before you went to bed.
>You were different.
>And Mrs. Caretaker didn’t like different.
>So in turn, Mrs. Caretaker didn’t like you.
>That was okay though.
>Sure, you wanted a nice hot meal.
>You wanted a nice, warm blanket with no holes in the bottom of it.
>And you would love a good night story.
>But you didn’t need those things, and you certainly didn’t want them coming from big, dumb, fatty Mrs. Caretaker.
>She kind of looked like a great, big, yellow cabbage.
>And she smelled just as bad as a great, big, yellow cabbage as well.
>You crinkle your nose and shake your head a little just remembering the way she smelled.
>Yuck.
>No, you certainly didn't need any of things from Mrs. Caretaker.
>You didn't need any of those things from anyp0ny,
>But you certainly wanted them.

>You hear the shower stop, and soon enough Mahonie walks out of the bathroom, shaking the water form his wet mane and coat onto you.
>”All yours, loser. Ha!”
>He walks off, and you call him all the bad words you know about in your head.
>You walk into the bathroom and lock the door, getting undressed and stepping into the shower.
>When you feel cold water hit your skin and give you goose bumps, you realize that Mahonie used up all the warm water.
>You look at the bar of soap.
>There was dirty white and blonde hair all over it, covering its normal minty green color.
>You sigh, staring directly ahead into the tile wall as you’re pelted in freezing cold water, not even bothering to soap up.
>You reach for a bottle of shampoo, but when you squeeze the contents into your hand, you’re only met with a cold water and hairy soap cocktail.
>He dumped out the shampoo.
>And filled it with his bath water.
>More bad words float in your head as you squint your eyes in frustration, crinkling the plastic shampoo bottle in your fist.
>One day, Mahonie.
>One.
>Day.
>Once you finish your “shower” you dry yourself off and step up to the sink, reaching for your blue toothbrush.
>There…
>Was hair.
>In the toothbrush.
>Mahonie's hair was in the toothbrush.
>…
“Darnit.”
>Oh it felt good to use a bad word out loud.

>After finding a spare toothbrush in a dusty drawer, you brush your teeth, slip your clothes back on, wrap your blanket back around yourself, and take your leave.
>Celestia help you if Mahonie somehow finds your breakfast and wipes his stupid flank all over it.
>You shuffle down the creaky, old stairs down to the kitchen for breakfast.
>By the looks of it, all the fillies and colts were having apple slices and orange juice.
>You can feel your mouth tingle at the thought of some nice orange juice running down your throat.
>But when you look at your seat, your heart drops and your mouth gets parched right quick.
>A slice of bread and a glass of water.
>A slice of bread.
>And a glass of water.
>Truly this was the breakfast of champions.
>You sit down, staring at the white slice of bread in front of you.
>Looking over at Mahonie, you see that he’s grinning at you while popping apple slices into his gullet.
>Sighing, you pick up the bread and begin to bite down on it.
>Wait.
>You stop, barely touching the bread with your teeth, and examine it.
>Green.
>Yeah, yeah that was green on your bread.
>Your bread has green on it.
“Why is there mold on EVERYTHING in this house?!”
>Some of the other orphans giggle at your outburst, while Mahonie neighs in delight at your anguish.
“Forget this. I’m leaving.”
>Before you can do anything, you smell the hint of great, big, yellow cabbage.
>Double Darnit.

>”Just WHERE do you think you’re going?”
“I’m going out.”
>”It’s raining outside. You will do no such thing. Now finish your breakfast.”
“But my bread has green on it.”
>”It’s good for you.”
“No it’s not. Green bread is bad bread.”
>”And what makes you think you know what’s good and bad for you better than I do?”
“Well for one thing I’m not a big, smelly mare-monster who smells like bad cabbage. That’s one thing.”
>She gawks at you before raising her hoof, but you duck and run out of the kitchen and out the front door, blanket on your back and your feet bare.
>”I swear when you come back here I will whip you from ear to ear, you no good little monkey!”
>You turn around, give her a raspberry, and dart off down the road, splashing through puddles as you do.
>Good riddance!
>You’d rather play in the rain any day than stay in that place with those ponies.
>Finding a nice alleyway filled with puddles of all shapes and sizes, you get to work.

>Nothing like a good puddle splash to get the heart and feet a pulsing!
>Leaping from each watery spot to the next, you find yourself grinning far more than you should be.
>You run through alleys and dart through small gardens, playing pretend as you do.
>While climbing trees you were a clever huntsman, tracking your prey with skill and cunning.
>When you found a small cardboard box, you became a pirate, sailing the Seven Puddles, looking for gold and other booty to be plundered.
>And when you found a large stick, you were a noble knight, sworn to protect your fair queen from the evil sorcerers and bandits that plagued your land.
>Yes, all in all a fun day to be had indeed.
>You wish you had someone else to play it with, but for now you were content with it just being you.
>As dusk approached your stomach began to growl, yearning for food that was NOT green when it wasn’t supposed to BE green.
>Peaking around the corner of an alley, you can spot a mare selling pears on the street corner.
>Patting your pocket and feeling the three bits you had, you dart over to her.
>You’d found those bits a couple of months ago on the street.
>You hadn’t dared show them to anyp0ny in the orphanage, lest you get robbed.
>As you make your way down to her, she gives you a smile.
>The sign says that it’s three bits for a pear.
>You grin back at her widely as you dig for your bits, handing them to her as she plucks a ripe pear from the top of her cart.
>You take it, your gob already watering, and pluck it into your mouth as you wave thank you and goodbye to the mare.
>She was nice.

>Walking back to the orphanage wouldn’t be too long of a trip, but you decided not to eat the pear yet.
>Oh no, you’d wait till you got to bed.
>Then you could enjoy your tasty treat without having to worry about being soaked to the bone.
>As you walk down the streets, eyes fixed on your ripe, golden prize, your ears pick up a strange sound.
>Once you listen closer, you realize what it is.
>Mahonie.
>And from the sound of it, he was up to his jerky bullying ways.
>You crane your neck, and spot an alleyway.
>Must be where he is.
>You quietly make your way over to the alleyway, peaking your head around the corner to get a better view.
>”Ew, just look at those wings! Dream Catcher, look at her wings!”
>”Ewww what are you, some kind of bug?”
>”Just… just leave me alone.”
>They were picking on somp0ny, but you couldn’t get a good look at her.
>You could see a jagged horn, and a pair of deep green eyes.
>”Hey Mahonie, you think her wings work the same way a fly’s does?”
>”What, you mean when you tear them off of ‘em?”
>”Please… I’m sorry I’m like this. Just please, leave me alone…”
>”Who said you could talk, “Buggy?”
>”Don’t call me that!”
>”Ha! That’s just what you are! A bug!”
>”I am not!”
>You could feel your grip on the stick you found earlier tighten, your teeth bared.
>You weren’t Anon right now.
>You were a knight.
>And you had to save a queen.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_E9TyGxxosk

>You step into the shadows of the alley, placing your pear on the ground next to you.
“Leave her alone, Mahonie.”
>The two colts turn to look at you, and Mahonie sneers.
>”Get lost, monkey. We’re just playing with our new friend here.”
“I said leave her alone.”
>You raise the stick slightly, clenching it in both of your hands.
>”Aw, what’cha gonna do? Hit me with your big bad stick? Get lost, loser.”
>They both turn back to the filly, and that’s when you cut loose.
>You sprint down at Mahonie and smack the stick into the back of his head, breaking it into pieces.
>”OW! What the he-“
>You tackle him, punching him over and over as you do.
>Making fun of you was bad enough.
>But making fun of some poor filly?
>Not going to happen.
>Not with Sir Anon on the job.
>Dream Catcher bucks you in the chest and you hit the brick wall behind you.
>Then Mahonie gets up, and the two of them begin to wail on you.
>Kicks to the chest.
>Punches to the face.
>You were going to be covered in bruises tomorrow morning.
>But you put up a good fight.
>You swing madly at them, knocking them back as best you can as you stand between them and the filly with the crooked horn.
>”What is she, you’re marefriend or something?! You into weird freaks of nature?”
“Leave her alone! She hasn’t done anything to you!”
>”Oh forget this! C’mon Dream Catcher, we’re leaving. This monkey isn’t worth my time.”

>The two of them spit at you and walk out of the alley, heading back to the orphanage.
>You’re breathing heavy and you slump to the ground, cradling a bruised shoulder.
>You hope they didn’t see your pear down there.
>Just then, a tiny voice speaks up form behind you.
>”Um… are you alright?”
>You look back to the “queen” you just saved.
>Your eyes widen at the sight of her.
>Her hair was strange, aqua color. Almost blue, but not really, and the ends of it almost looked like they were made of webs.
>Her wings were thin and transparent, like a bug’s wings kind of.
>Her horn was crooked like you thought, remarking on the bends and twists in it.
>Her legs had… holes in them.
>Just like your blanket…
>But her eyes.
>Her eyes were…
>Lovely.
“…hi…”
>”Are you okay? They… they beat you up pretty badly.”
“Oh. Yeah. I’m alright. My shoulder hurts and my chest is all stingy, but I’m alright. Are you alright?”
>She nods, smiling shyly at you.
>”I am… thank you. For helping me, I mean.”
“Uh…huh…”
>You can’t stop staring at her.
>She’s just so…
>So…
>Different.
>”You’re freaked out by me, aren’t you?”
“What?”
>She bows her head and scuffs the ground, but looks back at you with confident defiance in her eyes.
>”Well go ahead! Be freaked out. Because one day, I’m gonna be a queen! My mommy told me so! Hmph!”
>She puffs her chest out proudly.
>You smile.
“Neat!”

>”That’s right, a qu-… what?”
“I think that’s cool! You’re cool.”
>”You… you’re not scared of me? Or repulsed? Or… anything?”
>You shake your head, still smiling.
“Nope!”
>”…why not?”
“Well what’s to be scared of?”
>”Um… well… uh…”
>She mumbles to herself and looks herself over.
>”My wings?”
“Neat.”
>”My hair?”
“Neat.”
>”My… fangs?”
>She opens her mouth, showing off two tiny fangs on her upper jaw.
“Haha, VERY neat!”
>Your stomach growls, and you rub your belly.
“Can you wait a second. I need to go grab my food.”
>You get up and limp your way down the alley, finding that the pear is still sitting there.
>Smiling, you take it and shuffle down to the filly with a crooked horn.
“Do you know any magic?”
>She nods hesitantly.
“Do you think you could break this in half?”
>You hold the pear out to her, and she squints her shining green eyes at it in concentration.
>A flash of green bursts from her horn, and the pear is cut in half, but something has happened to the filly.
>Her mane is now deep red, and her body is a white color.
“…um…”
>”What? Oh no, did I do it again?”
>She closes her eyes and concentrates, another flash of green sparking from her horn.
>She’s returned to normal, but she looks at you worriedly.
“That… was so COOL!”

>She looks at you in astonishment.
>”Really?”
“Yeah! You can change how you look? Like, at any time?”
>”Well, yes. But I’m not so good at it just yet… my mommy was teaching me how to do it!”
>She beams at you in even more pride.
“Where is she?”
>”Who?”
“Your mom.”
>She happy smile softens, and she looks to the floor.
>”Oh. She… well she got sick. She got sick and… I… I guess I don’t have a mommy anymore. So I ran away from home.”
>She looks back to you, some tears in her eyes.
>”What about you? Where’s your mommy.”
“Oh I don’t have a mom. I never did.”
>”R-…really?”
>You nod, giving her a smile.
“I guess we’re more alike than you think, huh?”
>”Yeah… yes I guess so… my name is Chrysalis.”
”Hehe, that’s a funny name. I like it. I’m Anonymous.”
>”I like your funny name too, Anonymous.”
>She gives you a smile and you hand her the half of your pear, the two of you eating in the back of that alleyway for some time.
>Rubbing your face, your left eye throbbing from the beating you just received, you look over to Chrysalis.
>She didn't really look like a pony.
>There were bits and pieces that looked like a pony.
>But she wasn't one.
>Not really.
>And you kind of liked that.
>There were so many ponies around here. There were ONLY ponies around here.
>It was nice to find somebody different.
>Still, you didn't know what she was.

"Hey uhm.. Chrisa-...Chry-..how do you say your name again?"
>She looks up at you, her mouth full of pear and mumbles, "Chryshalish."
>Covering her mouth, she swallows down her food.
>"Sorry, mouth was full. Chrysalis."
"Okay. Chrysalis. What are you, Chrysalis?"
>She tilts her head to the side, confused.
>"I'm a changeling!"
"Oh okay... what's a changeling?"
>Chrysalis' ears perk up and she gives a tiny smile of delight.
>"A changeling is like a pony, but we have a horn and a pair of wings, see?"
>Her transparent wings flap quickly, buzzing as they do, and she points to her horn.
>"And we have magic, and teeny tiny fangs- OOH! And we can change! That's why we're Changelings!"
"So you're like an alicorn then?"
>"What's an alicorn?"
"Alicorns have horns and wings."
>"Well that's NOT what I am. I am a Changeling. Alicorns don't sound as good as Changelings, anyhow. What are you?"
"Me?"
>She nods, looking you over.
>"You don't look anything like a pony... You have funny hooves!"
>She levitates on of your hands towards her face and she giggles.
>"They sort of look like monkey hands!"
"Haha... yeah..."
>A lot of ponies made that connection.
>You really didn't like it, mainly because you WEREN'T a monkey.
>Chrysalis spots the frown on your face and adopts one on hers as well.
>"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... I'm sorry."
>She apologized.
>...nop0ny ever did that when they made fun of you.

>You give her a smile, and she returns it to you, her front teeth poking out of her mouth awkwardly.
>She darts her ears up, looking around the alley as if someone could be watching.
>"Want to keep a secret?"
>Taking a bite of your pear, you nod.
>A secret?
>You liked secrets. You were even better at keeping them.
>She scoots over closer to you and brings her mouth to your ear, whispering.
>"I'm a real princess!"
>You laugh.
>A princess.
>Right.
>Sure.
>As your giggling ceases, you see that she's staring harshly at you, her cheeks puffed up in frustration.
"Wait, really?"
>She nods vigorously.
"So that means your mom was-"
>"A queen, yup! And one day I'M gonna be queen of the Changelings."
>Wow, a real princess?
>As in, a princess, princess?
>...
"Wait, I saved you!"
>You grin wide at her, and she cocks her head to the side.
>"Well, yes. Yes you did!"
>Her eyes widen and she blushes a bit.
>Huh.
>Weird.
>"I should reward my little knight with a kiss from the princess!"
"What?"
>She leans close to you and quickly pecks your lips with a small kiss, giggling after she does so.
>You sort of just... sit there.
>"You're blushing."
"Shut up."
>You bury your face in your arms, curling up into your legs as Chrysalis continues to laugh at your embarrassment.
>The thought of kissing a girl was still pretty gross to you.
>Cooties and all.
>But Chrysalis didn't gross you out.
>She kind of made you feel... warm.
>Yeah.
>Warm.

>The two of you jump as lightning leaps across the sky and thunder rocks the alleyway you sit in.
>Did the storm come back?
>Suddenly rain.
>Rain everywhere.
>You take your blanket and sling it over Chrysalis's head as you stand up, the rain coming down hard around you.
"C'mon, we can't stay out in the storm like this."
>"Where are we going?"
"You can stay with me tonight. I have a bed, but my blanket is getting soaked so we can't really use that."
>"You... you'd let me stay with you?"
>She gets to her feet, the two of you standing underneath your blanket, hiding from the cold rain.
>Her eyes were wide, and pleading.
"Of course. That's what friends do."
>When you say the word "friend" she nuzzles into your chest, a few tears trailing down her face.
>"Thank you."
>She looks up to you with those eyes of hers.
>You couldn't help but feel even warmer when looking at them.
>"Do... do you want to be friends with me?... are you sure?..."
"Why wouldn't I want to be?"
>"It's just... I don't keep friends for long, Anon. They... they seem to end up leaving me..."
"We're different from everyone else, Chryssy. That makes us the best kind of friends."
>You let the blanket fall onto the two of you as you bring her in for a hug.
>It was the warmest you had ever felt in this cold, wet city.
>Warm and safe from all the bullies and cruel caretakers.
>So warm, that you barely even feel those tiny fangs nip at your neck.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CoMVTtZ-cig

~END~

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