Once the process was finished and the details arranged, Cheerilee placed Sweetie Belle in a chamber. Then she went over every single detail once more.
"There we are," she said once she was satisfied with her work.
On a whim, she glanced at the sleeping Sweetie Belle. How peaceful she looked. She must have a loving family that would miss her.
"Is this....really a good idea?" Cheerilee asked herself.
Then she shook her head.
"Stop it, Cheerilee! Of course it is. She gets what she wants. I get what I want. She gets what she wants. I get what I want....."
For several moments, she murmured it to herself. She had to make it stick to reduce any chance of second thoughts.
Once she was satisfied, she stuck the final touch inside of Sweetie's mane. Something that would activate in case none of her other plan points worked.
Now all she had to do was make one more stop.
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Light hit against the walls as Sweetie Belle came to. The filly woke in a daze to what seemed to be a nursery; a very pink nursery, in fact. The bed she awoke in was a pastel pink crib with sheets, pillows, and stuffed animals of the same color. Above her bed was pink draping. The walls, floor, and ceiling were colored purely pastel pink.
Sweetie Belle attempted to jump from her bed, but toppled over in weakness. What was wrong with her? With some struggle, she grabbed onto the bar, only to pull back in shock. Her front hooves now donned pastel pink, doll shoes and frilly, perfectly white socks with lace on them. The shoes each had a bow of the same color on them as well. She pushed herself onto her back only to find more shocking apparel.
Her back hooves now had the same clothing as her front hooves. Her tail had been dyed the same pink as Fluttershy's mane and tail as well as curled to Victorian perfection. On top of it, she now wore a Sweet Lolita style toddler dress in pastel pink with bows and white lace at the trim. But the most shocking to Sweetie Belle was that she wore a silk diaper which had a familiar cutie mark sewn in every inch of the fabric.
Once again she attempted to escape her confines when all of a sudden she heard a distorted, British voice.
"Ah. You have awoken, Clara May. How do you like your dress, Clara May?"
Sweetie Belle's head darted around the room. The voice chuckled slyly.
"Aw. I can't believe you don't remember, Clara May," it said.
"I cannot believe you wouldn't remember the life you had before, Clara May."
"Before?" Sweetie Belle gasped.
"Yes. Your mother misses you dearly, Clara May. Don't you remember the picnics, Clara May? Don't you remember the walks, Clara May? Don't you remember the parties, Clara May?"
"Why do you keep calling me Clara May?"
The voice chuckled.
"That's your name, isn't it, Clara May?"
"No, it's not!" she said defiantly.
"It's Sweetie Belle."
"Tsk tsk, Clara May. I can't believe you, Clara May. Let me show you, Clara May. Perhaps you'll remember, Clara May."
A book shook on the pink bookshelf nearby. Intrigued, Sweetie Belle pushed herself up from the crib and wobbled over dizzily towards it. She grabbed it and opened it up. Inside were photos supposedly she had been in. In one she was walking in the park with a familiar pony. Another was her at finishing school. Another was her dancing with a colt that looked like----
"Button Mash?"
"Secretly William Robert, the crown prince of Canterlot, Clara May. He had to hide as an average school pony to keep safe from assassins, Clara May. But he fell in love with you, Clara May. Don't you remember the cotillion, Clara May?"
Something flashed in Sweetie Belle's head. It was of her and Button Mash at a ball. They were dancing together. He looked as though he was enamored with her.
"Oh, Clara May," she heard him say.
"You are, by far, the most dazzling and lovely filly I have ever laid eyes upon, Clara May. When we are older, perhaps we shall be wed, Clara May. Wouldn't you like to be my princess, Clara May?"
Sweetie Belle began to smile, even though deep in her mind, something told her it wasn't true. She shook her head.
"But---he knows me as Sweetie Belle, doesn't he?"
"He calls you that in public to keep you safe, Clara May. And you call him Button Mash to keep him safe, Clara May."
By this time, she felt incredibly confused and slightly disoriented.
"You're making this up, right?" she asked.
"I only wish, Clara May."
"I'm going back to bed."
"Have a pleasant sleep, Clara May."
-----------------------------------------------------
It went on like this for sometime. Sweetie Belle would be exposed to information that she had apparently forgotten along with being tested on it.
"Now what is your name?" the voice asked about two weeks afterwards.
"Sweetie Belle?"
"No, no, Clara May. Your name is Clara May. You grow up in a family that is very rich, Clara May. You go to the Canterlot Finishing School for Fillies, Clara May. You are to be betrothed to Prince William Robert when you are old enough, Clara May."
That last bit Sweetie Belle didn't mind being true.
Along with being fed auditory information, she was also fed what was supposedly her favorite foods, which consisted of what seemed to be what you would see at a palace dinner. When she was not sleeping, eating, or being tested on information by the distorted voice, she was forced to look at photo albums of her and her supposed family.
Each morning, she woke up disoriented and went to bed the same way. The voice assured her that it was part of what was called the remembering. And as time went on, the more information she received about Clara May, the less she questioned it.
Then one day---
"Now what is your name?" the voice asked her.
She was about to respond with Sweetie Belle, but she paused for a second. Was her name really Sweetie Belle anymore? Was it ever really Sweetie Belle? Something in her mind seemed to click. Everything she thought she knew seemed to fade away. The memories she was taught began to drift towards the front of her mind.
"Clara May?" she responded hesitantly.
On the other side of the wall, Cheerilee sat at a control room full of monitors. A great grin leapt onto her face and she chuckled.
"Good girl, Clara May. Now say it again."
Sweetie Belle's eyes began to become blank.
"My name is Clara May?" she asked, a little more sure of herself this time, as more of the memories she was taught replaced those of what she thought were memories.
"Say it again."
"My name is Clara May," she said without a doubt.
Her voice became British and almost robotic.
In the control room, Cheerilee laughed triumphantly as Sweetie Belle repeated her new name over and over in the same tone. The filly was now hers to mold further into the perfect child.