Being His Imaginary Fluttershy
Editor's Note:
I found this letter in my mailbox on one cloudy Tuesday. I had no idea why someone put it there and after reading it I'm even more confused. I'd say the letter was handwritten, but the writing was barely legible, as if someone held the pencil in their mouth. I have no proof for veracity of this story. The description of the neighborhood matches mine, but not the description of a house. I found several men to whom the letter could possible refer, but all of them had different names and I couldn't manage to contact any of them. I've been observing balconies in my neighborhood, but I haven't seen anything strange. Having no other options, I decided to upload the letter online. Decide for yourselves. And if you think you're the person this letter is about, you can contact me at any time.
Hello. You can call me Fluttershy. It's not my real name, but that's how he always called me. At first, I saw no point in writing this, because I was afraid that he wouldn't believe it anyway. He'll think this story is a work of some other man with vivid imagination, and not me. I don't expect you believe me either. He didn't believe when he saw me with his own eyes, why would you believe me only on my word? But I decided it's worth a try.
I saw him first time when I was flying around the town in the evening. He was watching a TV show. I landed on his balcony and observed him from the outside. The show was about ponies. It immediately drew my attention. One of the ponies looked exactly like me, and another exactly like my friend. I was enthralled. I left after about ten minutes, afraid that he might see me.
Since that night, I kept visiting him. I spied on his activities. I saw that he spends a lot of time around this pony show. I saw him browsing pictures of characters on his computer screen. That one night, I saw him trying to draw. He drew one of the ponies from the show, looked at the picture again, laughed and threw it away. It landed next to the window I was looking through. The picture was awful, I'd even say creepy. No wonder he laughed at his own drawing skills. But I noticed something more important: he drew her, the pony from the show who looked like me.
I was more and more intrigued in that guy. After I returned home, I spent whole day thinking what to do. Finally I decided: I'll say hello to him. When the sun set down, I flew to his house under the cover of the night. When I arrived, I saw him preparing to go to sleep. He turned lights off and lay down in his bed. The room was illuminated only by moonlight. The window was open, so I sneaked inside. I walked towards his bed, only to see that he was trying to fall asleep. He was rolling from one side to another, as if the bed was not comfortable enough. I climbed onto his bed and stood behind his back. He turned again and his hand touched my hoof. I squeaked in shock.
I'm not sure if he realized he heard me, but he opened his eyes and smiled. He patted the bed next to him, as if giving me a sign to lay down. I laid down on my stomach, not sure what will happen next. He put his arm over me, hugged me and finally fell asleep. I was lying there, feeling more awkward than ever, but after about half an hour his arm slipped from my back and I could leave the room without waking him up.
When I returned home, I couldn't sleep. I had this nagging feeling that I did something bad, something I shouldn't do – yet, some whispering voice in my mind was telling me to see him again. The day passed and when it became dark again, the devilish voice won.
The window was open again. He just got to bed, so I went inside and hid under the bed. When I mustered enough courage, I crawled out and tried to climb the bed. He saw me as soon as I put my forehooves on his bed sheet. He sighed and said:
“I'm bronying so much I even have my imaginary Fluttershy now.”
‘Imaginary Fluttershy.’ So he thought I was simply a figment of his imagination. He invited me again to lay at his side. I did and we started talking. He told me his name was Nate. I didn't tell him my real name, I wanted to be his imaginary Fluttershy, nothing more.
I don't remember our first conversation that well. I know he kept asking me if the bed was comfortable, or if I like to visit him. I answered ‘yes’ to both those questions, because that was what an imaginary Fluttershy would say. In the end, he fell asleep with his arm around my body. As soon as I saw an opportunity, I moved his arm away and returned home.
I spend next few days watching that pony cartoon he loved. I learned all about the characters: their names, their character traits, their backstories. I also read lot of stuff created by the fans of the show. Some of it was creepy, some of it was cute, but I made a mental note that if he ever asked me about any of it, I'd say in my perfect imitation of Fluttershy's voice that those things had never happened.
After few evenings of absence, I ventured again to Nate's house. He looked as if he was trying to fall asleep. It was perfect timing: if I showed up earlier, he'd realize that I'm in fact real and I didn't want that. I climbed the bed, laid down next to him and nuzzled his face. He slowly opened his eyes and said: “I thought that after those two night I stopped imagining ponies.”
“But there's nothing wrong about that,” I tried to reassure him, like an imaginary pony would do.
He smiled and hugged me: “Of course not.”
His embrace was so strong I couldn't breathe. If he used any more strength, he'd break my ribs. I wriggled a little to loosen his hold, wearing a fake smile. After all, hallucinations don't feel pain.
We talked a little about ‘my’ life in Ponyville, about ‘my’ friends, a random chit-chat without any concrete topic. I don't even remember when I fell asleep next to him.
I woke up to the sound of birds chirping. When I saw I was still at Nate's house, I panicked. Luckily, he was still sleeping. I pushed his hand out of my flank and quickly rushed to the window. I flew away, with my heart pounding, and took the route home.
After that incident, I still kept visiting him every night, but I took special care to not fall asleep in his bed. Every time he wished me good night and waited for me to fall asleep, I said “goodnight to you, too”, closed my eyes and pretended to sleep. Then he often said something about how cute I was and few minutes later he was asleep, so I could return home way before dawn.
One day, my friend asked me why I painted butterflies on my flank. I mumbled something about liking how they looked like, but she wasn't convinced. I had this nagging feeling that she is going to do something weird and she'll force me to spill the beans.
I saw her again two days later. She looked different. She have her bangs cut straight and her flank sported a big star with six arms. I swallowed, but tried to keep my cool. She asked me why I watched human TV shows. I don't remember how I answered her, but I remember that I decided to not visit Nate that evening.
I saw her again next afternoon. She told me that she watched all episodes of the show about ponies and saw a lot of fan works. She was behaving a little different, but if I knew why, I could prevent what happened next.
That evening, I flew again to Nate's house. I squeezed between half-open window and its frame and crawled under his bed. Nate was not yet there. I heard water running in some other room. When he showed up, turned lights off and went to bed, I climbed his bed and again laid down next to him. Then I heard hoofsteps on the balcony.
Trying not to raise his attention, I glanced in the direction of the sound. I saw some purple shape trying to reach the windowsill outside. A moment later, my friend emerged and a moment later she was next to me in the bed.
“Oh, hi Twilight. What are you doing here?” Nate asked.
“Nothing, I just wanted to see what Fluttershy is doing here,” my friend answered. “May I join in?”
Before I could protest, Nate said “Sure!” and moved away from me, making empty room between us for Twilight to lie down. She didn't hesitate a moment before taking the spot.
Of course her real name is not Twilight, she was simply Twilight's lookalike. I was amazed how quickly she assumed the role of that bookworm from that cartoon.
But something wasn't right.
She wasn't behaving like real Twilight. She was telling bad jokes, kept poking my back, poking Nate's stomach, hugging me, tickling me... I tried to calm her down like a real Fluttershy would do, but she wouldn't listen. And then, she said something that changed everything:
“Anyway, it's not nice of me to interrupt your date. I leave this spot, so you can continue.”
She got up, left her spot in the middle and pushed me towards Nate.
“Go on, don't mind me.”
She stood there with a wide grin, looking at both of us. I just wanted to punch her in face, but it wasn't what real Fluttershy would do, so I could only lie down and look helpless. Nate was blushing, but soon he yawned, said ‘goodnight’ to both of us and fell asleep. After a minute, I went out of bed and said to my friend:
“What do you think you're doing?”
“Jeez, I'm sorry. But tell me, how long are you dating?”
My face went red with anger. I wanted to shout, but I didn't want to wake Nate up, so I got closer to her and said sternly:
“It's not like that! We're just friends.”
She displayed a sly smile:
“Right, friends. So, are we going back, or are you living here now?”
I didn't answer her, but I simply flew out. Luckily, she had no wings, so I could escape her easily. I went back home and locked all the doors and windows to make sure no one will bug me for the rest of the night.
Next evening, I landed on Nate's balcony at least an hour early. I waited there to see if she was following me. When I decided she was not, I sneaked inside once again. Nate was lying in his bed with his eyes open, staring at the ceiling. I climbed the bed and poked his arm. He looked at me and said: “Hello, Fluttershy. You're here again.”
“Yeah, I'm sorry about Twilight,” I replied meekly. “So what's up?”
He looked back at the ceiling: “Well, I was thinking about what she said yesterday.”
I shuddered. I laughed nervously and tried to downplay the issue: “Oh, don't listen to her, she was joking. We're simply friends, right?”
Suddenly I felt hooves on my back.
“I was serious,” I heard mare's voice. I turned around, only to see ‘Twilight’. “If you want to go intimate, I can leave.”
“Twilight!” I whispered through clenched teeth. “When did you come here.”
“I hid under the bed few hours ago,” she replied. “I was expecting something more interesting happening here.”
“Man, my imagination is running wild,” Nate whispered, “I'm hallucinating perverted unicorns.”
“That's not your fault,” I said to him, and then turned to the mare. “Why are you spoiling the mood? We're trying to relax here.”
Her sinister face haven't changed.
“Yes, I understand, you're not into humans. You prefer ponies, right?”
“Yes?” I replied, unsure what was her point.
She got closer, wrapped her foreleg around me and whispered into my ear: “I'm a pony.”
I felt uneasy and started shifting my gaze back and forth from her and him. I wanted him to react in some way, to tell her to stop, but he said:
“Come on, Fluttershy, don't be shy, it's your friend, Twilight.”
Oh right. For him, we were figments of his imagination, so it looked like he wanted to steer us into doing whatever he wanted. I suddenly remembered those lewd fan works other people made, and with a sudden surge of non-Fluttershy-like strength I pushed my friend away, punched Nate in face and bolted towards the window.
I spent the rest of the night pondering if I did the right thing. I fell asleep at dawn and woke at noon. After this short rest, I decided to set things straight with Nate. No more tricking him into believing I was imaginary. I scrubbed the butterfly mark from my flank. I was ready to meet him hours before sunset. I flew directly to his house, not caring if I was followed or not. I entered his room through the open window and looked around. He was not there, so I decided to wait for him. His computer was on, so I decided to look what he was doing.
It looked like he kept drawing. On the screen there was an unfinished sketch of Fluttershy and Twilight. The Twilight on the picture wore the same face expression my friend often had, but the real Twilight never did. Ponies in the picture were engaging in some very intimate activities. My thoughts started racing. I immediately gave up and left Nate's house as fast as possible. I couldn't forget what I saw. I couldn't think about him the same.
Later, at night, I was visited by my friend. She asked me why I didn't go to Nate's. I didn't respond and simply pretended to not hear her.
I didn't visit him for two weeks.
After those two weeks, I finally decided to try again. To try telling Nate I'm real, although I'm not Fluttershy. I hoped we could simply move past our mistakes and stay friends. Yet again I landed on his balcony and looked inside. However, the room looked different. The bed was bare. The desk was empty. I couldn't see any of Nate's personal items. Suddenly, I heard hoofsteps behind me. It was her.
“Didn't you know? Nate moved away.”
Moved away... When I wanted to say I'm sorry for deceiving him, he moved away... I wasn't sure what feeling I had for him, but I felt like I lost something very important.
That's why I'm begging you, whoever you are, please find Nate and give him this letter.
Nate, if you're reading this, please remember your imaginary Fluttershy. Maybe now you are really imagining a yellow pegasus, but please understand that I was real and I'm very sorry for not telling you that earlier. I'll be waiting for you every evening at the balcony of your old home.
Please come back.
