//------------------------------//
// Epilogue - The Memories of Sweetie Belle 
// Story: Just a Phase 
// by HorseStories 
//------------------------------//


~ Ten Years Later ~


Sweetie Belle stared out of the window, listening to the chilling sound of the wind whistling by, rattling the panes of glass. Behind her, she heard the radio playing, loud and clear.

'Another momentuous victory for the pro-homosexual advocates today, as Filllydelphia struck the last of it's remaining lobomtomy-based sodomy laws off the books! Former fashionista turned social justice campaigner Rarity has hailed the victory as, quote-on-quote, "Yet another crucial blow to the twisted system we seek to destroy."'

Her sister had always had a knack for drama. Sweetie Belle knew the future youth of Equestria would be in good hooves. Slowly, but surely, bit by bit, Equestria would become safe for ponies like her. Like a fish, entangled in a mass of barbed hooks, being gently and carefully freed from each one.

Sweetie Belle sighed, and rose to her hooves. Trotting over to the stove, she mulled over what to cook for dinner. Beans on toast? She was feeling lazy today. Grabbing a can and a can opener, she placed a pan on top of the oven and began to heat it up.

Some scars, of course, were permanent. Some hooks, too deeply embedded to dig out. Sweetie Belle alone knew this better than anyone. The ponies of the old ways had inflicted immesurable damage on her generation, and the generations that preceded her. One day, she hoped, they would get a taste of their own medicine.

The toast popped, and the hob began to whistle. Sweetie Belle arranged two plates of toast neatly, crusts removed, and generously poured over each a serving of baked beans. Just how she used to like them.

'Honey? Dinner's ready!'

Silence. Sweetie Belle glanced out the door into the hallway. Sometimes, it took a few shouts.

'Hellooo?'

Sweetie Belle distinctly heard a shuffling in the adjacent room. Shuffling gave way to hoofsteps, and soon enough, Amethyst's head poked through the door.

'There you are! Sit down, it's time to eat.'

Amethyst said nothing, just shuffled over to the table. Clumsily crashing into her seat, she grabbed a nearby fork with her magic, and began to wolf the meal down.

'Hey, slow down! A thank you would be appreciated.'

But she wasn't going to say thank you. She wasn't going to say please, or hello, or ask her how her day had been. Because Amethyst didn't do that. In fact, she didn't do anything any more.

Because along the base of Amethyt's skull, running across her now-shaven head, and ending between her eyes, was a gruesome, ugly, deformed scar, showing where the doctors had come and taken away what made Amethyst unique. What made her special. What made her the mare Sweetie Belle had fallen in love with. Gone, forever.

Silently, Sweetie Belle paced to the other side of the table, and sat opposite to Amethyst, who didn't even look up from her meal. Sweetie Belle felt her eyes swell with tears.

'Amethyst... please, say something.'


THE END