//------------------------------// // Sweetie Belle -- Enlightenment // Story: The Album // by Peregrine Caged //------------------------------// Written by: pawndidater2 Rated Everyone Summer has come and passed The innocent can never last Wake me up When September ends She let her voice carry. No one was home. It was just her. Her and that hypnotic resonance that emit from somewhere deep inside her. Like my father’s come to pass Seven years has gone so fast Wake me up When September ends The melodic tones of her amazing voice danced across the lyrics, a true merit to her favorite slow song. Here comes the rain again Falling from the stars She loved the way it passed her lips, such a sad song filled with such happy thoughts. Drenched in my pain again Becoming who we are She hoped that one day she might understand the raw emotion that went into a song like this, the sacrifice and devotion necessary to create something so beautiful. As my memory rests But never forgets what I lost Wake me up When September ends She sang the rest of the song, tears welling up in her eyes as she read into the words, looking deeper than the surface in order to truly understand the passion they contained. It was beautiful. As she finished, she thought of her own talent. It was nothing compared to the words. What is voice but a medium for a message? What good is beauty for an envelope? A message is the same no matter how it's conveyed. What she truly wanted was to write her own songs, to create the message. But before one can create, one must understand. She needed to understand. But how? It was simple, really. She had to do something. And it was with this resolve that Sweetie Belle got up and began the day. Her parents had left her at Rarity’s house as they went on yet another vacation, and Rarity had decided she was old enough to stay home alone, provided she was alone, while she ran errands. Given this unique opportunity, she knew she had to take advantage of the moment. She pondered over the cereal Rarity had taught her to make. It was much like scheming for her cutie mark, but with musical enlightenment being the end goal. There had to be an emotion evoking activity that could be performed by the afternoon. There was little time and little to work with. Eventually she decided that those who would know best would be those that had already achieved what she was looking for. She finished her breakfast and went upstairs to listen to records. *** "Father died." Vrip. "Parents divorced." Vrip. "Near-death experience." Vrip. "Cheated on." Vrip. "Sole survivor of the Detrot prison break of '83." She moved the needle once more, letting another song play. "Falling in love... that could work!" She glanced at a clock. "But in an afternoon? Ugh, there's not enough time!" she screamed out of frustration. She had been at this for hours already, and before she knew it, Rarity would be home. Not that she had anything against her sister, but whether the fashionista realized it or not, she could be harsh at times. This would be her only chance for quite a while to do anything she wanted without harsh scrutiny. And she hadn’t the faintest semblance as to what was left to try. She sighed, glancing at the meager excuse for a song she had attempted. I’m all by myself Thinking of words Nopony’s here aaaaand... I’m all by myself All by myself Nopony’s home I’m all by myself Writing a song All by myself Her gloomy train of thought was derailed by a knocking at the door. Groaning about the interruption, she dragged her hooves to the door and opened it rather swiftly. “Hello, Sweetie!” greeted her ears in a chorus. On the mantle stood two fillies Sweetie Belle never thought she would be upset to see. “Hey,” she grumbled in a downcast voice. She was busy, frustrated, and now she would have to deny her own friends playtime. Could today have turned out any worse? Apple Bloom immediately picked up on her downtrodden-nes. As if she’d been hiding it. “What’s wrong?” She sighed. This was not going to be fun. “I’m trying to write a song. It’s not going too well.” Scootaloo gave a smile of what Sweetie Belle painstakingly identified as pity. She didn’t want any pity. “That’s too bad. Maybe you should take a break? That’s supposed to help with-” “I have no time to take a break!” she yelled, releasing all of the pent up frustration from the day at once, not thinking of the impact on her friends. “Rarity will be home in a few hours and I’ve barely even started and what I do have is terrible and I don’t have any time!” The two fillies stood agape, confused and hurt. Apple Bloom looked to be on the verge of tears. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some writing to do.” She shut the door with a bit more force than necessary and trotted back to her makeshift workspace. She redoubled her efforts. She pushed her mind to its limits. She pulled all the stops. And she couldn’t focus. No matter how hard she tried to evict the memory from her head, a little voice nagged at her that she needn’t have been so brutal. Has this thing really driven me this far? Yelling at my friends when they just want what’s best for me... As tears started rolling down her face, she realized something. All this time she had spent by herself, trying to achieve in an afternoon what took most ponies years of experience. She was just a filly--barely eleven years old! There would be time for this in the future. When she had more experience, when her sister wouldn’t be so judgemental, and when the two fillies she cared about the most in the world weren’t on her doorstep wondering what had gotten into their friend. Wiping the damp streaks from her face, she left her mental prison and opened the door.