“Everything's going to be just fine.” you whisper to yourself.
> You eagerly stand in line at the bus depot.
> “Next!” the counter associate shouts.
> You walk up to the counter.
> “Destination?” she asks.
“N-New York.” you mumble
> “Round trip or-”
“One way.” you respond.
> She punches a few buttons on her computer and prints you a small ticket.
> You hand her the cash and exchange greetings before heading to the bus.
 
> You hand your ticket and board the Silver Fox bus.
> Exchanging greetings with the driver, you embark.
> You tightly clutch on to the small backpack in your hands, in it all your belongings.
> Save for a few hundreds dollars in savings, you haven't much to your name.
> You peer down the bus.
> It's mostly empty.
> Save for the driver, there's only a few others on board.
 
> You glance at your watch.
> 11:25PM
 
> Somehow you're not surprised.
> You can't really expect too many boarding a late bus to New York at this hour.
> But it can't be helped.
 
> Finding an empty seat wasn't hard.
> Eventually you pick a window seat near the back.
> You pull your seat back and let out a long sigh.
> New York was still quiet a distance away.
> The bus driver assured you it would be no more than fourteen hours.
> You produce an old iPod from your pocket, one of the few luxuries you could afford, and pop in your earbuds.
> It was going to be a long night.
> Might as well try to get some rest.
 
> You stare out the window.
> Outside, dozens of buses sit idly in neat rows.
> Their drivers group around in various circles.
> Passengers are scattered and few.
 
> You glance at your watch.
> 11:29PM
> The bus engine starts.
> You shut your eyes.
> Hopefully, you'd be able to fall asleep.
 
>  Your mind drifts
> New York.
> The city that never sleeps, huh?
> You've heard there some good work over.
> Hopefully you'd be able to find a job soon enough.
> There isn't much in your bank.
> But it should hold you over for a little while.
> Hopefully.
> But...
> But what if you don't find work?
> What if you can't a place to crash?
> What if things don't go according to plan?
> What if you had to live in the streets?
> What if-
> “Excuse me?” a soft voice whelps.
 
> Your train of thought is broken.
> Autonomously, you pause your iPod and remove your earbuds.
> You look to your side for the voices owner.
> “I-Is this seat taken?” she mumbles, gesturing to the seat next to yours.
> You look over.
> It's a pegasus.
> She's small, with a gray coat.
> She's wearing a fluffy purple hoodie that's two sizes too big for her.
> She cradles a small stuffed animal in one hoof, and a gym bag in another.
> You notice a small pillow on her flank.
> What was that called again...A cutie mark?
> You glanced around the bus.
> Most of the seats were empty.
> You pause for a moment.
> Any other person would have picked a window seat far from the next passenger.
> Then again, she wasn't a human.
> You begin to ponder her reasoning for all this.
> Maybe she just wants some company for the trip.
> Maybe.
> A little company can't hurt anyone, right?
> But you glance back at the pony next to you.
“O-Oh no.” you explain. “Go right ahead.”
> “Thanks.”
 
> She smiles and takes the seat next to you.
> She removes her small saddlebag and places it at her feet.
> You smile and put your headphones back in.
 
> A pegasus, huh?
>  It's been a while since Earth and Equestria were linked up. But even today you don't see too many ponies around these parts of the country.
> They're uncommon, but not exactly a rarity.
> You glance over to her again.
> There's that pillow on her flank.
> You remember hearing about how that mark is linked to their special talents.
> Thinking it over, you figure it's a cute novelty
> But you'd be petrified if a magical tattoo magically appeared on your thigh one day.
 
> The engine roars to life, and you soon depart the bus depot.
“Finally.” you whisper to no one in particular.
> Soon enough, the roads before you become a blur as you speed towards your destination.
> You stare out the side of the window.
> The rain has picked up, and small droplets of water roll down the glass.
> You recall fond memories as a child, riding in the backseat of your parents car.
> Watching in awe as water drops race down the glass as you traced them with your finger.
> One memory leads to another.
> And your minds fills with brief moments of your past.
> Your first year of grade school comes and goes.
> A somber smile works it's way on your face as you recall those carefree days.
> You remember those endless summer days spent playing under the sun.
> Those days you were always found with your close knit circle of friends.
> The window slightly fogs up with a heavy sigh.
> It's been so long since you've seen them last.
> You wonder how they're all faring.
> You can only imagine many of them went onwards to attend university after high school.
> They'd probably be finishing up by now.
> As you go through a mental list of all your childhood friends, you try to remember their quirks.
> But. Yet.
> It's becoming harder and harder to produce any details.
> The harder you try, the less you remember.
> And at this point, you can barely even remember the sound of their voices.
> You shudder.
> What if they've all forgotten about you?
> …
> Probably.
> It's been so long since you've spoken with any of them.
> Your mind runs rampant.
> Where are your friends?
> Where is your family?
> How long has it been?
> Months?
> Years?
> You can't remember.
> The soul crushing lonelyness begins to chip away at your sanity.
 
> “So...” a sheepish voice erupts.
> Quickly, you mute your iPod and remove your headphones.
> You glance to your side to the voices' source.
> The small pegasus stares back at you, eyes brimming with curiosity.
> “What's on your mind?” she quickly remarks.
“Ahh. Nothing.” you reply.
> “Nothing? Sure didn't look like a lot of nothing to me.” she perks. “Something got you down?”
> You peer directly into the pegasus' eyes.
> Her eyes full of compassion and kindness.
> “You know, whenever I feel upset. Talking about it always makes me feel better.”
“I'm just...”
> “Scared?” she quickly asks.
> You slowly nod.
> “You? Scared?” she notions. “What's a big, tough human like you have to be scared of?”
> You pause for a moment.
> “You want to talk about it?”
 
> She stares back at you with an expression of pure empathy and curiosity.
> It's been a while since you've since this emotion.
> Broke and unemployed; people recently have been all too quick to give you the cold shoulder.
> But this pegasus is different.
> You can see it in her eyes.
> She doesn't know about your financial hardships.
> She doesn't care about your faults and mistakes.
> Right now, she only seems to care about you.
> The REAL you.
> You laugh for a bit.
> She's a total stranger.
> Yet.
> She's not.
> It's amusing to see how the first 'person' to show you compassion isn't really a person at all.
> You snap back to attention.
> The soft snoring of your fellow passengers is just barely audible of the constant humming of the bus' engine.
> The soft pitter patter of rain against the glass is constant.
> And the small pegasus sits patiently by your side, awaiting an answer.
 
> You give a warm smile.
“I'd love to, miss...”
> “Pillowcase.” she heartily responds.
> You extend your hand, which she meets with her hoof.
“The name's Anonymous.” you shake. “Pleasure's all mines.”
> She beams you with a toothy smile.