Anon - Helping Rarity

>Anon sat on the edge of the wall, slowly taking a drag off his joint.
>He held it for a moment, enjoying the fruity taste of this particular strain of pot he acquired.
>No matter what the day brought, it was always worth it just to sit on a wall, alone and think about things he wouldn't normally think about sober.
>It was his vice, and he couldn't care less.
>With nothing but roach, he flicked the remains and hopped off the wall to start his trek home.
>In reality, it wasn't that far, but he always walked slowly. It gave him more time to think.
>Really, there wasn't much to think about. His job was bearable, and payed well, considering it was just a supermarket job. School was decent; All in all, Anon's life was pretty great.
>In what seemed like an hour, Anon arrived home.
>He pulled out his keys and unlocked the front door of his house.
>It had belonged to his parents, but it was given to him in their will.
>He closed the door behind him and kicked his shoes off, his feet grateful for the relief.
>He walked to the fridge and pulled out an expensive looking chocolate pudding, his treat for a hard days work.
>He grabbed a spoon and plopped himself onto the comfy three seater couch, and turned on the tv.
>Not bothering to change the channel, he watched with glazed eyes as he slowly chewed on his pudding.
>A loud knock on the door pulled Anon out of his daze.
>Who could be knocking at this time? He checked his phone just to see how late it was.
>23:31
>Pretty late for someone to knock.
>Quietly, Anon put his pudding down and pulled out his M1911, not wanting to be unarmed in case a robber were to be at the door.
>He creeped up to the door and peered through the spyhole.
>A shivering alabaster girl with purple curly hair stood at the door, tears seemed to be streaming down her face.
>Curious, he stepped back from door and called out.

>There was no answer from the other side of the door. Anon quickly checked his gun's magazine and took the safety off, smelling some sort of trap.

"I said who is it?"

>A small whimpering came from the other side, and a faint, sorrow laced reply.

>"M-my name is Rarity, please let me in."

>Anon lowered his gun, and thought for a moment.
>There hadn't been many robberies in recent times around his neighborhood, and most people tended to have a weapon in their house.
>Nevertheless, something seemed off about the situation.
>There were many other houses around, why pick this one?
>Even more curious now, he looked through the spyhole once more. This time, he carefully scrutinized the girl.
>Moderate height, not too tall or short. Dressed very well, must be rich, fancy jewelry and hair.
>She was a student at his school. Not one he hung out with, or saw much during or outside school.
>Anon lowered his gun and unbolted the door, leaving the chain on. He opened the door a crack and asked.

"Can I help you?"