As I lay my head on my torn pillow, I wrap my plushie in my arms. The stains show more now, the mane is more frazzled, and the eyes are washing off, but I still love it anyway. It's appearence is very similar to Rarity, who is my favorite pony. Unicorn, to be exact. When I was a newborn baby it was my first toy. Right now I am a twenty year old woman, and I have never even thought about getting rid of my plushie.

I enter the realm of sleep and soon find tonight's dream. I find the world that I wish would happen, one where I have a family down the street and friends right next door. Ones that don't care about who I am or what I like. In my dream I have a well-paying job and a long, healthy life ahead of me. But everything ends with just two words.

'Wake up.'

My dreams always end that way. The voice is always the same. Everything is identical night after night. Never changing, just like the path I chose. When I was young I dove into the My Little Pony fandom, and I might as well have drowned. I never came back up from that ocean of magic and friendship. I don't think I ever will.

I finally open my eyes and find the dull morning sunlight flowing through my old and broken window. The dusty cracks left web-like strands of light on the rotting boards. I pull myself up into a sitting position before grabbing my plushie. Even though the house I live in has been abandoned for decades, I still try to fix it up every now and then. However my work only shines through when I don't find a rat or cockroach after a few hours.

I step down the broken stairwell and meander my way through the messy hallway. It is only mess because of the lack of repairs though. I make my way to the room I keep the cooler and old television and sit down on the only seat I have left. A plastic kiddy chair. But it often gets the job done when I need somewhere to sit. The cooler is right next to me and I pull out a box of crackers I found in the dumpster behind the grocery store. I always have to ration it to about fifteen crackers a day, but I get by.

The television has only four things that work, and that is the cable box, VHS tape recorder, sound, and audio. I use it to record My Little Pony despite the fact that changing the channel nearly breaks the whole thing. I slip the VHS tape into the slot and press the play button. I wait a few seconds before the familiar theme song begins to play. I hug my plushie and hold it close to me, glad that I have something to hold without getting too dirty.

There are not too many ponies I like in the show. But Rarity is my favorite for many reasons. The first reason is her goals. In order to gain high social status, most people (and ponies) are greedy and snobbish. But she wants to defy how society works by reaching that status alongside her friends and business. She knows that becoming too greedy will only destroy you, but first it will get you places.

Another reason I like her is her colors. Her coat is nearly white, but might as well be with how she takes care of it. Her rich purple mane and tail are always carefully groomed to perfection and are much prettier than the other ponies. Her eyes are a brilliant shade of blue, sapphire blue, and match her cutie mark perfectly. Even though she sometimes uses too much make-up, the amount she normally uses brings out all of her beautiful colors.

The last reason I have for liking her so much is her generosity. She is willing to give up almost everything to benefit someone else, no matter what. She is willing to give ponies on the street some money and food so they can survive the night. Her generosity reminds me of the time a young child gave me a five-dollar bill. I was able to buy some grapes with that, and those grapes fed me for a long time.

As the show begins, I look down at my plushie. The paint I used to give it a cutie mark was fading away. Same for the eyes and eye shadow. The white paint that coated the once-purple hooves and horn were completely gone, and the red string that attached a tag was still knotted in the left ear. The hole from the main tag was still open in the back, despite my attempts to close it.

For some reason the stains were mostly on the right side of my plushie. Maybe it is because I always sleep with it on my right side with my plushie facing my direction. But I can't clean anything, because trying is futile. The insects and animals that live here with me manage to get everything dirty in less than an hour. But that is just how they live, just like this is how I have to live.

The episode playing is Suited for Success, which is one of the best Rarity episodes I have ever seen. It shows off all of Rarity's generosity, and it tells everyone what a good character she is. But that is just my opinion talking. I tend to be rather stubborn, which is part of the reason I got here in the first place.

Back when I got into the show, I did not care about what others thought. I blurted out something related to ponies every couple of minutes, which made many people annoyed. For some reason my parents didn't have any comment when I told them I liked My Little Pony, but after hearing that I was annoying others, they began to show signs of disapproving me liking the show. But that was only the start.

Bullies never slowed me down before then. As I entered High School all of my previous friends just turned around and left me in the dust. Even other people who liked ponies pretended I never existed. I became incredibly silent and closed off, and nobody showed me any kindness. I didn't care about my studies and neglected my schoolwork, which eventually led to me dropping out.

After I dropped out, my parents were fed up with me. I was an only child, and they kicked me out onto the streets. My aunts, uncles, and grandparents lived on the other side of the planet, so I couldn't get their help. So I hung around my neighborhood for a bit, until my parents held a yard sale. Everything that was for sale was my stuff. When nobody was looking, I grabbed something from each box.

I managed to get a pillow, my old jar of honey, a blanket, a tee-shirt, a pair of jeans, some socks, and my plushie. It was newer then though. This abandoned house managed to tear it up, but at least I have a roof above my head. I just wish that I decided to at least get a job, because in my state right now nobody wants to hire me. I can't go into any poor-person home because of my age. I also do better when I'm alone and secluded from the rest of the world.

I hug my plushie tighter and reach down toward the cooler. But to my surprise, I unconsciously have already eaten all of my food for today. I sit back in my seat and look down at my plushie again. For a second I think I see the mane and tail look like Rarity's in the show, but I shake my head and see that it never changed. I stand up and turn off the television before stepping outside to go look for more food.

I always bring my plushie with me wherever I go, despite the people always staring at me strangely. I mostly travel to the nearby grocery store because they always throw out food past its expiration date. But if there isn't any food I just go hungry for the day. I've done it before, and the pain doesn't hurt as much now that I'm used to it. I'm used to the musical growls my stomach makes every minute or so.

I reach the dumpster where the food is thrown out and peek inside. I see many wet paper bags, wrappers, and peels, but nothing that is packaged or safe for me to eat. I turn around and begin walking back as I feel my hunger start to affect the rest of my body. I'm already really skinny, my hair looks like it got thrown into a thorn bush, and some of my teeth are broken due to me living in horrible conditions, but nothing beats my hunger.

When I get hungry, I feel as weak as a toothpick. I can stand up for a few seconds, but then I break under my own weight. That happened at the top of my stairs once, and I broke through the wall at the bottom. My left foot was sprained because of that. My muscles become extremely weak and I feel like I'm going to collapse upon myself. But that feeling comes every week, so I don't know why I'm not used to it.

I get back to my destroyed home and walk up the stairs to my bedroom. I lay down on my bed and shut my eyes so I can sleep away my hunger for a few hours. But within minutes I fall asleep. But my dream is different this time. The landscape is more colorful and is much more peaceful than where I live. The place is familiar, as if I have seen it before in the recent past.

'Equestria.' I realize. I smile and begin running to the clear field that's in front of me. I don't feel my hunger, I'm stronger, and when I feel my hair I'm cleaner. It's like life decided to give me a second chance. 'Maybe I died when I fell asleep.' I conclude. 'If so, then this is a wonderful afterlife.' I then reach the clearing and look around at the land surrounding me.

I see Canterlot off in the distance and Cloudsdale slightly closer. I recognize the desert and the ravines in the area. I finally see Ponyville and feel the urge to run toward it. The strength I now feel pumps through my legs and carries me toward my destination, while I try to leave my old life behind. But as I'm running I notice only one thing odd. There are no ponies or other living things except plants in sight.

I slow down once I notice this, and I look at the small town in front of me. While I was thinking I ended up running to the entrance to Ponyville. I step inside to border and begin to walk around. The silence is deafening. I wander around, noticing that there isn't any food anywhere, much to the sadness of my stomach. But it is then that I find the place I wanted to see the most. Carousel Boutique.

I walk up to the cylindrical building and open the door. Everything is in place like how it should be. The only thing not normal is the silence. I bet myself that if I dropped a paperclip on one side of Ponyville I'll be able to hear it clearly on the other. I then decide to explore the home of Rarity and walk to the other side of the room to see what I can explore. There's nothing except a light purple staircase leading to the second floor.

I walk up the staircase and find a hallway that leads to various rooms. Some have signs above the door that say which room was which, but I can't understand Equestrian writing. I decide to pick a room at random and choose the third door on the right. The door is much cleaner than the others and has a much prettier pattern on it. I open the door, and the first thing I find is my plushie on top of a bed. But not any bed, Rarity's bed.

I gasp in shock. 'This has to be a dream.' I think to myself. 'Physical objects do not pass into any sort of afterlife.' I then slowly step over to my plushie, which looks more like Rarity here. The mane and tail are curled and are darker, the coat is spotless, the horn and hooves are the same color as the coat, the eyes look more like the ones from the show, and the cutie mark is perfectly detailed and visible. I pick up my plushie and hear a familiar voice.

'Wake up.'

"No!" I shout, defying the voice. "This is my dream, and I will not wake up!"

'Fine then.' The voice says. 'Then I guess I have to do this my way.'

I back away toward the door, but it shuts and locks itself behind me. I turn around and the windows lock and the curtains shut. There is no escape in my dream. The room grows darker and my plushie starts to glow with a dark aura. I back away as far as I can get from my plushie and end up receding in a corner next to a dresser. I can hear the voice making weird whispering sounds in the direction of my plushie, but then I finally recognize the voice.

'But how?' I ask myself. 'And why? Rarity would never do something like this!'

'But I do whatever I want.' Rarity says. 'You thought that my generosity could save you, when that is just plain stupid. Me? Giving up almost everything I have? Ridiculous. In case you haven't noticed, I only give things when I need to. I never give to the poor unless they're family, my friends, my only escape from somewhere, or if I need to get through. You humans are so simple-minded.'

I then realize that Rarity is right. Never in the show has she given up something out of the goodness of her heart to a stranger unless she needed to. I gasp once my realization hits home and I try to make myself a small and protective as possible. But it is too late. Rarity knows where I am, and suddenly I hear the sound of weapons being drawn. Seeing as how I know that I'm going to die, I peer around the corner of the dresser to see what weapons will have my blood on them.

The first thing I see is a crystal dagger that is sharp on all edges. Another weapon is a diamond-encrusted sword that is made out of gold. There is also an emerald bow with ruby arrows that are poised to strike at me. The last weapon is a sapphire katar. All of the weapons are being held up with a light blue aura of magic. My plushie seems to be much more like Rarity than I last looked at it, and it begins to grow, move, blink, and breathe.

'I have been keeping an eye on you since your birth.' Rarity says. 'I have been doing it as that infernal plush toy. You never suspected a thing with how much that toy looks like me. And because of that, I know everything about you. I think that it is an amazing feat that you thought you could trust me if were 'real'. You couldn't have been more wrong. It is my goal to kill every living creature that depends their lives on fantasies of having generosity throw itself toward them. Your death will be a very pleasant experience.'

It is too late for me to escape, but I still want some answers. "Why did you always tell me to wake up every night?"

'Because your dreams were always the same.' Rarity began explaining. 'I thought I could change them and spare me the trouble of cleaning my tools. But when this dream popped up from your lack of hunger and wishes for me to be real, I had to take action.'

I feel a bit satisfied with Rarity's answer, but I'm sad. My favorite pony, the one who is the most pretty and generous, is slowly coming to life and killing me. And from my favorite plushie too. I feel like I can't trust anyone or anything. I see Rarity beginning to stand up and make her way toward me, but there is only one thing that isn't changing. She still doesn't have a mouth. Just like my plushie. But she still breaths through her nose. It's just kind of creepy.

Once Rarity gains enough strength to walk I know that my life is over. The gemstone weapons are inching toward me, and up close they look sharper than I could have ever expected. "I'm sorry." I tell Rarity before shutting my eyes, bracing for the impact.

'Goodbye, Yoku.'

Those are the last two words I hear before the gemstone weapons dig their way through my body, killing me with a loud scream and blood splattering everywhere in the room. Despite that being a dream, I never wake up. Instead blood is all over my abandoned house along with my organs and bones. Everything in the general area is covered in red. Everything, except a white Rarity plushie.

Author's Notes:

Well, that was actually fun to write! I actually never expected this story to turn into a first-person present-tense horror,but sometimes your mind takes you places. And remember, if you ever find a small toy that looks like Rarity, make sure that it doesn't kill you in your hunger-deprived sleep.