Mum and Dad.
I don't quite know what to write here. I suppose it doesn't matter, since I'll probably never see you again. I'm sorry this all had to happen. I'd like to say I'm sorry I was born this way, but I'm not. At least, I'm not anymore. I think it's okay to like mares, and I don't care what everyone else thinks. Maybe that's just me being arrogant, but I honestly don't care. Coming to terms with myself has done me more good than trying to fix myself ever has.
Dad, I don't know if you ever told mum about me. I like to think you did, but I'm not sure. I suppose you'll have to now. I know you were only trying to help me, but you didn't. All you did was make my life unbearable, and let Comet Spark do whatever he wanted. I don't hate you, but I don't love you anymore. I'm sorry.
Mum, I'm a fillyfooler. You might just stop reading here, but in case you didn't, I want you to let you know that I'm still Sweetie Belle, and I'm still your daughter. I know you're trying right now to think of something you did wrong, that made me this way, but you honestly didn't. You were the best mother anypony could ask for. Please don't take this out on dad. I don't blame him, honestly, and I don't want you to either.
Rarity, I haven't seen you a lot recently. I'm fairly sure dad never mentioned anything about my 'situation' to you, but he didn't need to. I already told you, years ago, when I was only small. I know back then you told me it was 'only a phase' and that I was going to grow out of it, but I guess you were wrong. I think you knew all along, anyway, but you never said anything about it to me, just kept pushing boys my way. Our parents might not show you this letter, so I'll slip a copy under the door of the Carousel Boutique. Please don't freak out.
I'm not on my own. I'm with two other mares from Ponyville, ponies like me. I can't tell you their names, but we're going to Manehattan. I want a chance to start a new life, and I know you won't let me do that. That's the only reason I did this. I don't have a chance in Ponyville - everypony knows about me, because Brisk Spark told them, and he got it from his brother - Comet Spark.
I have to go now. Please try to understand.
Goodbye.
- Sweetie Belle.
Rarity was feeling pleased with herself, as always. Once again, she was ahead of schedule with her work, giving her time to begin drawing up a new set of designs for next season. She had managed to keep drama out of her life for a long time now - no fights with her friends, no artistic disagreements with her customers, and no family troubles.
In fact, Rarity was in such high spirits that she nearly missed the piece of paper that had been shoved under her door. Levitating it to eye level, she immediately took in the neat, cramped writing that could only belong to Sweetie Belle.
Rarity had, despite Sweetie's suspicions, been fully aware of Sweetie Belle's treatment. Of course her father hadn't told Rarity, preferring to treat her like a child rather than a capable and fully independent mare. Rarity very quickly suspected that something was wrong with Sweetie Belle - the excitable filly she once knew had been replaced these past few weeks by a moody, quiet pony who rarely spoke. Although many other ponies - all of her friends, for instance - had simply chalked it up to 'teenage years', Rarity knew her sister well enough to see that something else had caused this rapid shift in personality.
Her first action was to quiz Twilight. Rarity knew Sweetie Belle had spent a lot of time in the library recently, and that it had caused a lot of strife between Sweetie Belle and her parents, but Twilight had not been able to tell her much, just that Sweetie Belle visited the library to read about medicine. Next, she had asked Fluttershy, who Rarity knew had been speaking quite regularly with Sweetie Belle. This endeavor proved far more fruitful. As soon as she began asking questions about Sweetie Belle, Fluttershy visibly grew anxious, and with only a little bit of pushing, told Rarity all about Sweetie Belle's therapy sessions.
Rarity was not surprised to learn that Fluttershy sympathised with their 'struggle', but she had no idea her parents knew about Sweetie Belle. Rarity had kept that fact a secret for years, so she could only assume Sweetie Belle had told them. Silly girl.
As soon as Rarity heard about theses therapy sessions, she backed off. She had no right to lecture her parents on how to raise their foal - after all, her parents had raised her, and Rarity considered herself a well rounded individual. On the other hoof, Rarity hadn't come with Sweetie Belle's complications.
Rarity had known, ever since Sweetie Belle had confessed to her all those years before, that this condition was a time bomb, ticking away slowly. Some day, sooner or later, it was going to erupt, therapy or no therapy.
It was therefore no great surprise, although still a horrible experience, to read the letter Sweetie Belle had crammed through her door. Rarity had known a day like this would come, when Sweetie Belle's - situation - would cause her to do something drastic. This did not, however, make her feel any better.
As Rarity finished the letter, laying it flat on the table, two major details resonated through her head.
Manehattan.
Two other mares, ponies like me.
Sweetie Belle had gone to Manehattan, lead off by two fillyfoolers who presumably had some sort of twisted, insidious designs on the poor filly. Rarity knew exactly what fillyfoolers and coltcuddlers did to young foals like Sweetie Belle - it seemed there was a new case every week, some poor foal being led off and...
Rarity dashed over to her phone, and frantically dialed the emergency number. It took a few seconds, but finally she was connected.
'Emergency services, what service do you require?'
'Police! NOW! My sister had gone, she's been foalnapped by some awful-'
'Slow down there ma'am. Is this the Sweetie Belle case?'
'Yes, that's her! Please tell you've found her already!'
'Sorry ma'am, but this is actually the second call we've received about this foal. A pony named Magnum called us earlier. Do you know-'
Rarity slammed down the phone and bolted for the door.
After slipping the note under Rarity's door, Sweetie Belle had headed straight for the home of Lyra and Bon-Bon. To disguise her recent injuries, she had taken a cloak from her wardrobe, pulling it close around her frame.
Lyra and Bon-Bon lived in a small, pretty cottage just outside Ponyville town center. Sweetie Belle didn't know why they wanted to move away from this idyllic countryside environment to a hectic city like Manehattan. On the other hoof, Sweetie Belle knew it would be rude to pry into their personal lives. Whatever reason the couple had for leaving Ponyville, she was sure it was a good one.
Lyra and Bon-Bon were outside, checking their luggage. Lyra spotted Sweetie Belle first, and raised a skeptical eyebrow. Sweetie Belle hesitated, unsure, and then remembered Fluttershy's instructions.
'Angel'.
Lyra nodded, and turned to Bon-Bon. 'That's her'.
Sweetie Belle stepped closer, partially sliding back her hood so she could see clearly.
'So, Sweetie Belle, we just - holy shit.'
'Lyra!'
'No, Bon-Bon, seriously, come and get a look at this'.
'Lyra, don't scare - oh my goodness, Sweetie Belle. Who did this to you?'
Sweetie Belle realized the extent of her bruising, and shook her head. 'It doesn't matter. Let's just go'.
'Sweetie Belle, it does matter? Was it your parents?'
'No! No, it was.. someone else'.
'Are you sure you're okay?'
Sweetie Belle nodded. 'The faster we leave, the sooner I'll feel better'.
Bon-Bon wasn't sure, but she did want to get moving. It wouldn't be long before Sweetie Belle was noticed missing. In fact -
'Sweetie Belle, does anyone know where you've gone?'
'Uh, I think so. I left a note'.
'You did what!?!'
Frantically, Bon-Bon grabbed bags and hoisted them onto her back. 'Lyra! We have to go, now!'
Sweetie Belle shrunk back. All of a sudden, the decision to leave a note seemed to stupid. Why did she think it was necessary?
'Bon-Bon, I'm sorry-'
'Save it.' Bon-Bon spat. 'If you want to help, grab some bags'.
Rarity was sitting in her parent's kitchen. Just a few minutes before, she had burst through the front door, only to find her parents huddled around the kitchen table. Initially, she had vented molten fury at her parents, calling them every name under the sun, blaming them for Sweetie Belle's predicament. Her father and mother had not even attempted to defend themselves, simply sat limply.
Eventually, all of the rage drained out of Rarity and was replaced with sorrow. Her father had begun to explain about Sweetie Belle's therapy, but Rarity had cut him off, telling him she knew.
'But what have you done about this?'
'We told you, Rarity. We called the police, what more can we-'
'For goodness sake, Father! Some predators have carried her off, and you're not even looking? Have you checked the train station?'
'I... I'm sure the police will-'
Rarity snorted. It was so typical of her father to be lethargic and inactive in a crisis.
'I don't care if the police are looking, we should be looking as well!'
Rarity stormed out. Although she hated to admit it, she was going to need some help. Three unicorns wouldn't be able to cover much ground on their own. She needed someone fast, someone who could cover lots of ground quickly...
Rainbow Dash had initially been insolent and grumpy when woken, but upon hearing of Sweetie Belle disappearance, she snapped up and soared out of her door, right before getting as much information as possible. Her plan was to scout out the train station - Rarity had said Sweetie Belle was headed for Manehattan, and the only way to get from Manehattan to Ponyville was by train.
In fact, Rainbow Dash was so preoccupied with looking for Sweetie Belle that she hardly noticed where she was going, and walked straight into Lyra Heartstrings.
'Oof!'
Rainbow Dash picked herself up, muttering.
'Sorry, Rainbow!'
'It's okay. Hey, Lyra, have you seen Sweetie Belle anywhere?'
'S-Sweetie Belle? Umm, nope. Isn't she, like, Rarity's sister, or something?'
'Yeah. Don't, like, tell anyone, but she's run off. Said in a letter she was headed to Manehattan with some creeps. Keep an eye out, would ya?'
'Sure, Rainbow. No problem.'
Sweetie Belle was hot, uncomfortably and finding it difficult to breathe inside the suitcase, but she supposed it was apt punishment for her mistake. On the outside, she heard Lyra talking to somepony, and then silence again. Her confinement ended abruptly when the suitcase was opened and she tumbled out.
'Sweetie Belle, did you tell people where we were going?'
Sweetie Belle let out the tiniest affirmative squeak.
As the train started moving, Lyra swore violently and slammed her hoof into the wall of the compartment. 'That's it. We're sunk. Thanks a million, Sweetie Belle.'
'Lyra, don't be so defeatist'.
'Defeatist? Bon-Bon, you heard what Rainbow Dash said. Manehattan station is gonna be crawling with police ponies, and they're all gonna have her description, as well as the fact that she's got two foalnappers in tow'.
Bon-Bon sighed, and turned to Sweetie Belle. 'Me and Lyra are just gonna have a little chat, okay Sweetie Belle?'
Sweetie Belle nodded, eager to not screw anything else up.
Bon-Bon escorted Lyra outside, and shut the door.
'We can't keep her. You know that.'
'What are we supposed to do then, Lyra? Throw her off the train?'
'Listen, I don't want to see her come to harm any more than you do, but face it. If we even set foot in Manehattan with her, we're goners. We can't risk putting her in a bag, because they do random searches there, and even if we could get her through the station, we're talking about spending an entire life with a wanted runaway. We can't keep her a secret forever, Bon-Bon. Why should we ruin this new chance for our selves?'
'We could... disguise her. Dye her coat, her hair...' Bon-Bon faltered.
'And then what? Oh hey, this is our filly who has the exact same voice and broken horn as that runaway, and her tail's turning purple in places? Get real, Bon-Bon. You know what happens if we get caught. They're just gonna label us foal abusers and abductors. You know what happens to them, Bon-Bon. This is our lives we're risking here. If we get caught, it's the death penalty, do you understand, Bon Bon? They. Will. Kill. Us'.
'Well, do you have a secondary plan?'
'Actually, yes...'
Lyra and Bon-Bon returned to the carriage, Lyra looking stony faced, Bon-Bon looking sick.
'All right, Sweetie Belle. This train calls at Fillydelphia, so why don't we stop there for a bit?'
Sweetie Belle did not understand. 'I thought we needed to get moving as quickly as possible?'
'Yeah, but that was before we got out of Ponyville. Now we can take our time!'
Sweetie Belle wasn't sure this was wise, but she had never been to Fillydelphia before, and it made sense to stop during a long journey.
'Okay, Lyra. Whatever you say'.
Fillydelphia was a beautiful city. Skyscrapers towered over Sweetie Belle, sometimes so tall they got lost in the clouds. Although she was anxious to see more, Lyra seemed very keen to find 'somewhere to sit down'. Sweetie Belle assumed they planned to shout at her for her letter, but she didn't care. Now she was away from Ponyville, things were already starting to look up.
Eventually, Sweetie Belle was taken to a cafe by Lyra and Bon-Bon.
'What do you want, Sweetie Belle?'
'Uhmmm... I don't know yet.'
'Okay. Well, me and Bon-Bon are just gonna check out the starter menu, right Bon-Bon?'
Bon-Bon sat, fixed in place, gazing at Sweetie Belle. 'Right, Bon-Bon?'
'Yeah'. Bon-Bon broke her gaze. 'Starter menu. Sounds great'.
Suddenly, Bon-Bon turned to Sweetie Belle. 'Sweetie Belle, I'm sorry'.
'Bon-Bon!'
Sweetie was confused, both at the overly emotional state of Bon-Bon and Lyra's agitation. They sure were strange ponies.
Sweetie Belle watched the couple round the corner into the cafe.
'Nothing, Rainbow Dash?'
'Sorry, Rarity. She must have slipped past me. Or maybe she's still in town? in fact, that whole Manehattan thing could have been a decoy.'
Rarity sunk to her hooves. 'Oh, Sweetie Belle... please come back'.
Sweetie Belle had been waiting at the cafe for nearly an hour now. Although she had at first tried to deny it, she now knew Lyra and Bon-Bon were gone. Sweetie supposed she only had herself to blame. After all, she had been so stupid as to lay out exactly what she was going to do in her little note.
Sweetie Belle had been getting dirty looks from the cafe owner for some time now, and realized she had overstayed her welcome. She slowly left her table, hoping against hope that Bon-Bon and Lyra would make a last-minute appearance, with some wild explanation as to why they had been gone so long. Sweetie Belle wouldn't have questioned it, just accepted any story, even if she knew it was a lie. Anything to make them come back.
Of course, they didn't come back. Sweetie Belle knew they wouldn't, but she preferred to pretend.
Sweetie Belle felt like she should cry, but didn't. She couldn't, not in Fillydelphia. Although most of the horror stories about foal runaways came from Manehattan, Fillydelphia was still prominently featured. Momentarily, Sweetie Belle considered returning to Ponyville, but she couldn't. She couldn't take another day as a prisoner in her own home, in her own mind, being violently beaten up weekly by Comet Spark.
Sweetie Belle knew she was going to have to find somewhere to sleep, but every corner or alley she passed looked less and less inviting. Many ponies looked pointedly away from her, or even crossed the street to avoid her. Sweetie Belle attributed this to her appearance - the bruises, cracked horn and swollen eye all gave her the appearance of one of Fillydelphia's many street rats.
At least nopony would look upon her as easy pickings.
As the sky darkened, Sweetie Belle became more and more intimidated and dizzied by the sheer size and complexity of Fillydelphia. She was long lost, although she supposed that didn't matter now. Ponies at night were more aggressive than the ones during the day, and Sweetie Belle had many kicks, obscenities and vile comments thrown her way.
Finally, she collapsed after having walked for hours on end. Sweetie Belle crawled into a small back alley, between two small fast-food joints, and fell into a deep, fitful sleep.
End of Part One