//------------------------------//
// Times are a Changin' 
// Story: You're All Alone, Sweetheart 
// by TheApexSovereign 
//------------------------------//

"CUTIE MARK CRUSADER CHEMISTS!"

That was the last thing I remembered hearing before the accident. Three years ago. Three. Long. Miserable. Years. 

It's amazing how much ponies can change in just a short amount of time. I used to be precious little Sweetie Belle, the cutest filly in all of Ponyville. I had a sister named Rarity, whose really short tempered but fair at times. Then I had the two bestest friends in all of Equestria, Scootaloo and Applebloom. But like I said, allot can change in three years. Friends, family........appearances. 

Here, let me tell you the whole sob story:

We, the three young adventurers, were hanging out in the clubhouse, just waiting for something, anything to happen. 

Scootaloo skimmed through a checklist, marking off all of the attempts we made at trying to obtain our cutie marks. Applebloom was trying to balance a ball on her nose, I watched. 

"Well, it's official," Scootaloo announced. "We tried everything, and still no cutie marks." Her eyes fell to the ground. 

"We could try tax filein'!" Applebloom suggested.

We gave her stiff looks. "Who'd want a tax....thing on their flanks?" Scoot asked cockeyed. 

Then I got an idea. That STUPID idea! Just the thought of it makes me want to scream. But I was a filly back then, still am, but I was dumber. We all were. 

"How about we take a whack at chemistry?" I asked with hope glimmering in my soft green eyes. My friends, my former friends, nodded in agreement. 

The next day, after school, we walked back into class and borrowed Ms. Cheerliee's chemistry set from the science cupboard. We had no idea what we were doing, we just let our dreams carve the path. 

We made our way back to the clubhouse and gathered around the beaker set over a small fire, excitedly mixing random chemicals together. The concoction turned from a navy blue, to coal black, into a sour apple green. My face hovered right over the bubbling mixture. 

Scoot and Apple hopped up and down cheering. "CUTIE MARK CRUSADER CHEMISTS!" 

The burning chemical mixture erupted like a geyser. My face was showered with the searing hot mixture, just as Scoot and Apple's cheering turned into screams of bloody murder. I fell back, hooves over my bubbling face, releasing muffled cries and sobs. 

I was screaming, "Rarity! Help me!" as my volume of pain increased. Scootaloo was just staring at me, shocked, unable to move. She was just leering over me with tears in her eyes, allowing the chemicals to sink deeper into my skin. Well, that's a bit of a lie. After staring at me like a moron for three minutes, she finally snapped out of it and tried cleaning off the sizzling mixture using our CMC uniforms. Unfortunately, the dumb fool was inadvertently rubbing it into my eyes. 

After what felt like hours of agonizing pain, Applebloom came back with Applejack. Why not the authorities? Medics? Anyone other than a cowpony? 

Now Applejack may be an apple-bucking hick, but she knows what to do in a situation like this. She set me on her back and told my friends to get Rarity and the others. I dozed off from pure exhaustion before we even made it to the hospital. 

When I woke up from a daylong's rest, I only saw the whiteness of bandages blocking my vision. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, I almost gagged at the strong scent of floor cleaner. I tried speaking. The only sounds I made were nails-on-chalkboard voice cracks. But then I heard shuffling to my right, like somepony was flipping through a magazine. 

The speaker had a very familiar voice, "Girls! Girls! She's waking up!" It was Rarity. And just for the record, I was surprised she left her precious boutique to stay with me in the hospital. A crowd of hooves clopping on the tile floor approached each side of my bed. 

"Sweetie Belle, you're okay!" Scootaloo said, sounding particularly relieved. I smiled, only to realize my entire head was wrapped in bandages. 

"Ya gave us a real scare, Sweetie!" Applebloom set her front hooves on my bed. 

I spoke, though my voice was fairly hoarse. After many painstaking attempts I said, "R-Rar-ity?" 

She gently placed a hoof on my head, "Yes darling, I'm here. My friends will be here in a couple hours to see how you're doing." 

At the time, I thought it was because they cared about me. How naive I was back then; they were only there because Rarity asked them to. 

After three days of bed rest and regaining my voice, the time finally came to remove my bandages. My friends, as well as Rarity's gathered around my bed. Doctor Hooves unraveled the wrapping around my head. He gently lifted them off, careful not to harm my irritated skin. 

When I opened my eyes, everything was a blur, but I did hear some very peculiar whispers and murmurs. Vision steadily returned. The look on everpony's face would stay with me the rest of my life. They looked shocked, Rarity in particular was rather horrified.

"What?" I asked sweetly. 

Rarity started to tear up. Scootaloo said, "You look like a burnt marshmallow!" I had no idea what she meant. Rainbow Dash shot her a nasty glance. 

Dr. Hooves returned with a mirror, to show the disfigured monster once known a Sweetie Belle. My left eye was now a milky white, no green iris or pupil. Just a void blank stare. The eye on the right was okay though, but it had a hideous burnt scar going from my brow all along my cheek and finally ending at the corner of my lips. My once beautiful white coat was scorched in several places, mainly edging the scar though. My skin was infected, making it lumpy and uneven. The area around my nose looked like chewed up bubblegum. Repulsive is too kind of a term to describe me. And last but not least, my ice cream swirl mane was no longer soft and fluffy. It was oily, disgusting, and gave off a rancid odor whenever I got sweaty, forcing me to take a bath nearly everyday. I looked like a monster, no, I am a monster. At least, that's what a little filly called me in the market once. 

I started to cry, my friends consoled me. I asked for Rarity, who was also sobbing. When she heard me calling, she gave me a distant look, like I was an alien, aversly trotted over to me, and gave me the most reluctant hug possible, lightly wrapping her arms around me, not even trying to hug tightly, like I had some contagious disease. It stung me. It created a wound between Rarity and I that will never heal. The past three years she just kept throwing salt without letting it heal, though she made some pretty lame attempts.

As if my life couldn't get any worse, Scootaloo and Applebloom had 'big news.' Can ya guess? They got their frickin' cutie marks. Do you know in what though? Scoot somehow got one in chemistry, represented by a filled beaker. And Applebloom got her's in medical, represented by a red cross. Over the past three years, Scoots focused her studies on making chemical bombs for demolition when she's older and Apple worked as a ranch doctor with Granny Smith. 

Did I get mine? NO! OF COURSE NOT! Why would I? It's my destiny to be a blank flank! Maybe that's my special talent. But my friends promised to stick by me, always. Sounds nice, huh? Well, you know that old saying, 'Don't make a promise if you know you can't keep it?'

Well, it's true. Just ask those treacherous little twits I once called friends. Though they kept their promise for a few months,  they'd eventually start saying, 'Sorry Sweetie, I'm busy.' when I tried setting up a playdate. But it's all B.S. I saw them on one of those 'busy days' hanging out with Silver Spoon and Diamond Tiara. That's right, I was replaced by our arch-enemies. At first, I thought it was because I didn't have a cutie mark, cramping their popularity. But now, looking back at it, I noticed a bunch of ponies whispering to eachother whenever we'd walk by, stealing glances at the circus freak. Foals would laugh at me and call me 'burnt marshmallow.' 

Scootaloo and Applebloom didn't want to be around the freak, that's what it really is. So instead of talking about it, they abandoned me. Just like they promised. And of course, no other pony would want to be around the ugliest filly in Equestria, so I haven't had anypony to talk too in years. 

In my spare time, I'd go to Twilight's library and borrow a couple of books on magic. She happily lends them to me, like a big sister would. Or should. In fact, Twilight is the only pony who doesn't shun me for my appearance. She speaks in a celestial tone and always greets me with the warmest smiles. 

The books I rent teach Unicorns how to use magic. I suppose that if I'm gonna be a blank flank, I might aswell do something worthwhile. 

I'm gonna say this right now: Rarity is the worst sister in Ponyville. I always try to embrace her, to which she cautiously returns. As I walk out of the room, I'd hear her spraying something in the air. After a brief investigation, I found out it was a can of disinfectant spray. 

Whenever she goes out, I offer to come along. 

"Hey big sis! Can I come?" I'd happily trot over to her wearing a misshapen lumpy grin. 

She'd always gaze at my greasy lanky hair. "It's okay, uh, Sweetie. It's just a bunch of boring shopping trips, you won't like it." 

"Okay." I'd say sadly. I actually believed her. But soon after I realized she didn't want to be seen in public with me. She'd stay a short distance away from me, or give me some money to buy ice cream. 

I tearfully called mommy and daddy to see if I can live with them, but they're always on some important business trip. They probably don't even know what happened. 

My name is Sweetie Belle. I'm eight years old, younger sister of Rarity, the most gorgeous pony in Ponyville. 

I'm all alone in this world. There's no one to be with, to love. I guess I should just live the rest of my life as an outcast. As a burnt marshmallow. As a freak.

I'm tired of Ponyville, tired of these ponies.....tired of living.