The world around was the softest white that she had ever seen, the softest white that she had ever felt. It hugged her coat, pulling her in closely, holding her tight with more comfort she had known since the last time she was wrapped in her mother's embrace. And yet, at the same time, the white held back, floating at a distance, giving her space to breathe. She stretched out her limbs, flexing a foreleg lazily through the space, just to see if she could. As it turns out, she could.

Now, she didn't actually know it was a white that surrounded her and, upon realising this, she also realised that she hadn't quite yet gotten around to opening her eyes, having merely let her brain fill in the gaps that of course such a beautiful softness must be like milk or like snow, cool and flowing around her. Yet not a minute passed by before she grew dissatisfied with the knowledge that she was lacking in knowledge, that there was something out there just within reach but which she hadn't yet reached out for—and that's when she opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed was the sky, an immaculate blue that was somewhere out of a storybook, unmarred by clouds or even the sun. Nothing hung in the atmosphere nor flew just overhead; the only thing of note was the endless line where the blue expanse kissed the gentle green of the grass below. And how gentle the strands of grass were, poking up from the earth like hair. She looked down at her hooves whose dark green keratin contrasted with the soft green of the grass they bent down, crushed to the ground. She took a breath, and looked back up.

The whole world was still. Unnaturally still, even—the wrongness of it all sent a shiver down her spine. And yet, at the same time, this broke the stillness; she took a step forward, trampling a few more blades of grass, shattering the perfection laid out before her.

She didn't mind. In fact, as she thought about this, she smiled.

As she walked along the field, nothing changed but for the grass bending down before her with a soft crunch as her hooves matted it down against the dirt. Once, she looked over her shoulder, looking at the path of destruction that lay behind her. Shrugging, she moved on.

Minutes passed. She wasn't sure how many minutes passed, but she knew they did. It's hard to tell how much time is passing when you're in a dream, even when cognisant that it's a dream that you're in. She wouldn't have even been able to tell that she was moving anywhere with how perfect everything was, exactly the same, if not for that trail behind her.

And then, of course, as most things do, the perfection before her ended. She realised that the perfection was only illusory, you see, by coming across something different. Something foreign. She wasn't quite to it yet so she couldn't immediately recognise it for what it was but as she approached even closer, she could see through the tall grass that before her lay a puddle. Some way, somehow, the grass was interrupted for a large enough space to hold a basin of dirt and water. Briefly, she considered drinking; however, she didn't find herself in the slightest bit thirsty and, upon reflection, realised that the water would likely be much too dirty to be potable, anyhow.

Oh, and speaking of reflections...

Once she had reached the very edge of the puddle, she looked down and saw a pony in the flat, shimmering surface. A reflection. Or was it?

She cocked her head, trying to get a better look, but the very action answered her question; the dark-green shape of the pony in the puddle didn't move at all besides to blink. No, although this pony looked very much like she did, they were not one and the same.

"Hello," the pony said. From the sound of his voice, he was a colt, although still quite young. About her age, if she thought about it. "How are you?"

She didn't respond at first, trying to find the words. "I'm fine, I guess. How are you?"

"Tired," he replied almost instantly. "I'm very tired."

"Who are you?" she asked, giving him a funny look. "You seem familiar."

"My name is Kevin," he said matter-of-factly. "I'm... well, you know."

"Oh," she said, frowning. "I remember you. What are you doing here?"

"I don't know, really," Kevin replied, hanging his head. "I don't want to be here. Can I come in?"

"But you're not real," she replied. "You're my imaginary friend."

If Kevin was surprised by this accusation, he didn't look it. He just slowly nodded. "I know. But do you know that?"

She cocked her head. "What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said, and nothing more," Kevin replied. "Do you know that I'm not real?"

She sighed, looking and feeling forlorn. "What do you want? I have things to do here, you know."

"I want to come in," Kevin said. "And I think you need to come be where I am."

She bit her lip. "I don't wanna."

Kevin wore a sombre expression. "Yes you do, silly filly. You're just scared, and I know it's hard. But really, you can do this. They love you."

"I don't even know half of them," she countered.

"Still, they love you. Scootaloo loves you. Flight loves you. It's going to be fine."

"How can you say that?" she replied.

Kevin took a long time to reply; he looked up at the cloud-filled sky on his side of the puddle and sighed before looking back down. "Because I can't do this anymore," he finally said. "You don't have a choice."

"I-I know," she replied wistfully. "But it's so hard to stop playing pretend."

Kevin nodded. "C'mere, I'll help you down." He reached up a hoof and, to her surprise, the dark-green keratin broke the puddle's surface, sending little ripples outward towards the muddied edges by the grass.

She took a deep breath and closed her eyes before reaching out her own hoof to touch Kevin's. His hoof was cold and clammy, unfamiliar and almost unfriendly. Although it made her uncomfortable, she held on tight as he pulled and pulled. She stepped forward, bracing herself for the watery mud she'd surely come in contact with.

Yet it never came. She felt warmth as she passed through and when she opened her eyes, she found herself standing right next to Kevin on the other side of the puddle. The world around them wasn't perfect—the sky had a sun too bright and a smattering of clouds all over the place, and the hodgepodge grass grew in clumps wherever it would, but something felt... better. Not sterile, and not fake.

"Kaylee?" Kevin asked, turning to the filly.

"Yeah?" she replied cautiously.

"I know you can do this, girl. I really do."

"Th-thanks." She watched as Kevin turned toward the puddle and, in an instant, jumped straight through, water splashing up into the air. This time she wasn't spared, however, her coat nearly soaked through from the puddle. As she shrieked and jumped back, she felt her heart race.

By the time her heart rate slowed and she had calmed down enough, Kaylee looked back down at the puddle. Kevin had splashed away all of the water, leaving a muddy hole but no semblance of the watery surface she had seen before; even if she wanted to, there was no way she could go back.

With a heavy sigh, Kaylee tore her gaze from the mudhole and looked out across the uneven plains. She spied an odd shape somewhere in the horizon, out in the direction of the sun, and squinted as she took the first of many steps forward, trotting wherever her hooves might take her.