Anon in Equestria: A Forest

>You stand on the edge of a deep, foreboding forest
>Behind you stretches a dirt road
>Tendrils of grass grow over the top as the forest slowly reclaims its land
>Above you is the rose-colored sky of a sunset after a storm
>Ahead of you, there is no path, only the brush and trees of a darkened coniferous forest
>There is nothing left for you on the withered path. It isn't a hard decision to make: you must press forward.
>As you enter the forest, the sky becomes somewhat brighter, as if nature herself is compensating for the lack of light
>She must want you to come closer
>Because you're in her home, you oblige her request, and continue into the forest

>You walk deeper and deeper into the woods
>The birds sing a beautiful lullaby for you, rhythmic and hypnotic
>Squirrels playfully chase each other on the branches
>This is not the dark, foreboding forest you thought it would be
>If anything, it's less threatening than the forests you remember back home
>You aren't near your home
>You aren't in your homeland
>You are traversing a forest in a world entirely different than your own
>Or at least, you guess as much. You don't recall how you got here.

>You were sickly before you got here
>Actually, sickly is a bit of an understatement
>For the last two weeks, you had been bedridden
>The family doctor knew no ailment that matched your symptoms
>He could only prescribe generic treatments for other illnesses yours was similar to
>You withered away
>Maybe that's how the road would feel, if it could feel, as nature reclaimed it
>Nature was reclaiming you, and you felt it
>One day, you went to sleep, and you woke up here
>"Here" was a field many dozens of miles away, down the ragged path
>This was heaven, you thought
>You had died of your sickness, and the pearly gates were only a few feet away
>You looked around, and saw no grand structures
>No gilded fences
>No pearled gates
>No saints, angels, or deities to judge you
>Only you, the field, and an overgrown path

>For a while, you thought you were in an "Anon in Equestria" story
>You regularly browsed the threads on 4chan
>You expected at any moment, along the way, to meet a pony, or some animal that could talk
>None spoke a word as you padded along the path
>You looked around, looking for any mountains that could hold a capitol city carved into the side
>The mountain range you saw bore no cities
>You watched the clouds, awaiting any pegasi to move them, or better yet, to spot the city of pegasi: Cloudsdale
>The clouds drifted idly along the sky, gradually growing darker until they rained on you
>No pegasus came to push the cloud away as you walked along your path
>You kept walking until you came to the forest, paused for a minute, and went in

>You stop to drink at a stream, and kneel down into the cool waters
>It's been a while since you were last able to drink, and the water tastes sweet
>It refreshes you, and you continue on your way
>Perhaps you're in purgatory, and this will be your punishment: to wander endlessly, searching for something
>Vaguely, you know you were searching for something, though that something eludes you
>You'll know it when you find it
>You'll have to
>Perhaps you will end up like Vladimir and Estragon
>Except that instead of waiting for Godot, Godot is waiting for you
>You'd done your fair share in life to deserve this
>Perhaps this is an afterlife that represents parts of your life in its punishments
>The path could represent your lot in life, a dead-end job you constantly risked losing
>The forest could be how you always viewed your future, unknown, yet it never turned out to be as bad as you thought it would be
>And the town up ahead--
>You stop in your tracks

>You've reached the end of the forest
>So much for that analogy.
>Maybe you aren't in the afterlife
>Magic is something you don't believe in
>How did you get here?
>It could be a dream, a dream you'll wake up any minute from
>Your train of thoughts pauses as the songbirds change, increasing the tempo and intensity of their song
>You stand on the edge of a forest
>Above you is a rosy-colored sky, the sun in the same position as when you entered the forest
>Behind you is a dark, foreboding forest that wasn't as bad it could have been
>Before you is a fanciful, pastel-colored town
>It looks a lot like Ponyville
>You look out at a mountain range behind the town, and your heart skips a beat
>The birds pause for a beat too, as if to reflect your surprise
>It's a city carved into the side
>The clouds are fluffier here, and a collection of clouds even have buildings on top!
>You have arrived in Equestria, land of your dreams and desires

>Something holds you back
>The birds' tempo is rocketing now
>Sweat drips down your face
>To continue into Ponyville would be to give up your old life
>You know you can never return if you do so
>This will be your lot in life forevermore
>You don't know how you know this
>You just know that it is a fact
>You take a step forward, and the birds abruptly change their tempo to a slow, dirge-like tune, until they stop on a single chord, holding it out for what seems like forever
>They're singing away your old life, you muse
>As you're about to take another stop, you remember your family and friends
>You're never going to see them again
>This is selfish of you, to leave them behind like this
>You turn around and face the forest, listening for the birds
>You no longer hear them, and you grow worried
>Is it too late? Can you return?
>The first step may have already been enough commitment for what brought you here
>Without hesitation, you run back into the forest
>Around you, it darkens as nothingness envelopes the forest
>Eventually, it takes you, and reclaims you
>Tendrils of darkness grow over your arms, as if to reclaim your body for the universe
>The birds begin their song again, and the darkness recedes, the tendrils losing their grip on you and dropping away
>Nothing surges back and washes over your existence

>The heart-rate monitor beside your bed beeps in an even tempo
>You open your eyes
>Nobody is in the room
>Glancing to the clock on your bedside table, you see that it's the evening
>The sun has begun setting, and a beautiful orange shines through your curtains
>You feel reinvigorated as you lie in your warm bed
>Better than you felt before you became sick
>You sit up, and breathe deeply
>After some deliberation, you decide to try getting out of bed
>You haven't left this bed in two weeks, but your legs are still strong enough to support your weight
>You try walking, and take a step forward
>You take another step forward
>And another
>And another
>You begin walking to your bedroom door
>You walk to the top of your stairs, and carefully descend them to your hallway
>You hear the clattering of silverware against porcelain plates down the hall
>Nobody is talking, which is odd for your family
>As you pad down the hall, the clattering stops
>They're listening to the footsteps
>"Anon?" a feminine voice asks


>You lean against the doorframe of your family's kitchen
>Everyone has stopped eating now, and all eyes are on you
>As you look at your family, you notice they're all dressed in black
>"Oh Anon, we thought we had lost you!"
>Your mother gets up and runs to you and cries softly as she hugs you
>"The doctor said your heart rate was so low, that there was nothing he could do...he said we were going to have to wait until..."
>She doesn't finish her sentence, but you can guess what the ending is
>Tears are going down your normally-stoic father's face
>Your little brother rushes up to hug your legs
>Your mind goes back to the edge of the forest, to the life you had been offered
>As you look over your family, you find comfort in your decision.