Choose Life

>Well this is it then; you’ve fucked up good and proper this time.
>The tough one cracks his knuckles once more,
>”So, Mr. Anonymous, I’ll say it again. Just give us the money, and we won’t have any more problems. We can just walk away from this and forget all about it.”
>Sure. You’ll just pull $6000 out of your jacket pocket.
>Not that you could anyways with your hands tied up.
>The pressure is on now.
I…I h-have it….I CAN have it soon! I just need a lit-
>Without a warning, the thug’s fist connects with your jaw; you feel his rings rattle your teeth.
>The nerves send a signal to your brain:
>Error 20. Stack overflow. Conscious.exe has stopped working.
>You snap out of your dream.
>You still feel the fear from your memories on Earth even in Equestria. Some things you just can’t escape it seems.
>You crawl out of bed and do the new morning ritual:
>Splash water on face, urinate, and eat your toast at the small table in the kitchen.
>You spread your strawberry jam on the stiff brown bread. It’s like 125% wheat.
>The fruit spleggings remind you of when you borrowed too much money at one time from some Russians. Three teeth later, you’ve learned never to do that again.
>You glance over to the corner of the table where Ponyville’s citizens have entrusted you to do their taxes.
>The stack has started to collect the tiniest amount of dust in its neglected corner.
>You’re great with numbers, the best in fact. You did very well in college, until you gambled away your tuition.
>You let out a groan. You need to stop thinking about the past, especially since these ponys are depending on you!
>You force the toast down and whip out your pens and get to number crunching.
>Two hours and Ms. Heartstrings, Ms. Cheerilee, and an Applejack later, you’ve come to a legitimate stop in your work.
>You lick the end of your last pen, trying to coax some more liquid out, but to no avail.
>You can’t let others down. It’s a personal sickness.
Welp.
>You head through the door towards the store
>On the way there, you reflect on all the lush foliage that’s in Equetria. Had you not studied chemistry, you’d like to have been a botanist. It turned into a little hobby for you.
>You talk to yourself as you walk,
Tulipa clusiana. Lilium candidum. Bellis perennis.
>Kill yourself.
>You open the door to the shop and grab your pens and some other stationary.
>You place it on the counter and fidget in your pocket for the 10 bits you were asked for.
Oh, err…I must have left my money at home…
>Actually you spent it already. You neglected your work so much that your meager savings dried up pretty quickly.
> Now you have to do the most awkward move in the book.
I’ll have to put this back, I’m sorry…
>You turn around in embarrassment to see the yellow pegasi fluttering eye level with you.
>”Oh, d-do you need money, Anonymous? I-I could spare you some…i-if you want?”
>Fluttershy. She’s at least less creepy than she used to be.
>Well. Maybe not.
>Tapping on your window in a rhythmic pattern while singing in her mouse voice while it rains?
>Yeah that was pretty creepy.
Oh, I couldn’t borrow money…that’s rude of me.
>”N-no, it’s quite alright, Anonymous…I don’t mind.”
>She forks over the money, which you regrettably accept to purchase your supplies.
Thanks, Fluttershy; I’ll pay you back soon.
>”W-well…maybe there is something you could do to repay me n-now…”
>You gulp hard. What could it be? Something sexual, but what exactly?
>It doesn’t matter, you need this stuff now!
Okay…what do I have to do?
>Fluttershy giggles, “Oh, Anonymous…just come to my house later, you’ll see.”
>Shit.
>You pack up your things as you give the cashier a “help me” look.
>Flutters calls out to you,
>”D-don’t be afraid to get…dirty…”
>Back at home. Time to take your time with these taxes.
>Sure, you could skip going to Fluttershy’s, but you fear the repercussions that could come of that.
>She said that one time she carved your name into her hooves. You don’t know if she was serious or not…
>You shudder at the thought and blaze through the paperwork. Apparently Rarity’s business is struggling.
>Who’d have thought a clothing shop would have a hard time staying in business in a world of naked ponys?
>And with that, all the tax forms have been completed. The only thing to do now is file them and collect your payment.
>Finally, all the back rent can be paid…and you won’t have to move back in with Fluttershy.
>You let out a loud sigh,
THANK YOU!
>You stare at your plate of crusts from this morning; something left behind…
>Just like you.
>The crust is what keeps the other bread soft. The crust takes the heat and for what? To get ripped off and left on the plate, forgotten?
>You continue to stare at the bread.
>You feel the usual guilt and pain in your stomach slip away. For the first time you actually feel…
>Finished.
>You don’t want to be a loser any more. This is the last time you’re going to be frivolous with money.
>But, that's gonna change – you’re going to change. This is the last of that sort of thing. Now you’re cleaning up and moving on, going straight and choosing life.
>You’re looking forward to it already.
>Time to go and see what she wants…
>Fluttershy.