The Mess in my Head
Every night, before I go to sleep, Rarity comes to my room to say goodnight. It’s like that since I remember and I’m pretty sure it was happening when I was too young to keep track of it.
I yawn, turning in my bed. There’s some shadow on the wall and my heart skips a beat as I look at it. It’s not like I’m afraid of it. It just... surprised me, that’s all. After all, it’s just a shadow. It’s not a monster hiding in the closet or under the bed. I’m far too old to believe in monsters.
When I was younger, Rarity was scaring the monsters off. She didn’t even have to look under the bed or open the closet’s door. She’d enter the room and all the monsters would disappear, scared of her. Not even a faintest noise could be heard once she entered my room to say goodnight to me.
I turn in my bed again, causing the old springs to make a noise that grinds into my ears and makes me take a look at the closet. I’m not sure why. The doors are well-oiled and they don’t creak. Besides, the only being hiding in the closet may be Scootaloo. But it was a long time ago, in Apple Bloom’s house. I never knew Apple Bloom had so many bows.
Something creaks again. Maybe it’s the door? The closet’s hinges may be well-oiled, but same cannot be said about the door of my room – after all, I have to hear when Rarity comes to say goodnight to me.
Slowly, I turn my head towards the door. Nothing. The door is closed. I sigh, covering myself with a blanket. Maybe I’d just fall asleep soon? But that way, I won’t hear her. It would be bad if I didn’t.
I think my sister cares about me. Like, she really does. She may be busy with her dresses or friends, but she always comes to say goodnight to me. She definitely loves me, I’m sure of that. I need her and she needs me.
I snap out of that bizarre state between being asleep and awake; my eyes shoot open and I nearly dart out of the bed, as if it was morning. But no, the moon is still shining at my window, casting an eerie shadow on the wall. Eerie is a funny word. I learned it from Rarity.
I sit on my bed and stretch my hooves. Rarity is still not here and I really want to sleep. If I fell asleep before she comes... I simply can’t do that. I want, but, deep down, something tells me that if I did, bad things would happen. That’s funny, but at the same moment, terrible cold overwhelms me. Not even the blanket stops it. It comes from the inside of me.
Okay, it stops being funny. I want to sleep, but apparently I can’t. There’s no way for me to fall asleep, unless Rarity comes. Should I go and look for her? No. Never. It’s always her who comes to me to say goodnight and if I went to her... that’d mean that...
It’d mean that she failed me. And Rarity wouldn’t want to fail me. If she did, she’d be mad at herself, at me, at the whole world. I wouldn’t be able to watch her being like that. That’d make things even worse.
I struggle to keep my eyes open. Rarity is my big sister. I can’t make her fail me. That would be my fault. I’d fail her and then she’d fail me.
I sigh, staring at the ceiling. My whole life is one continuous blur of failures. I can’t even stay awake for long enough to see Rarity. To hear her saying goodnight to me. To wait patiently till she closes the door of my room and goes to sleep. Straighten the blankets and go to sleep myself like a good filly should.
I bang my hoof against the pillow. Sometimes I think it shouldn’t be like this. That maybe Apple Bloom doesn’t wait till Applejack comes to say goodnight to her and just goes to sleep. And how about Scootaloo and her parents? I’ve never seen them during sleepovers. Applejack sometimes comes to the clubhouse, but it’s not like she stays for long.
Whenever my friends come to me for sleepovers, Rarity never comes to say goodnight to me. I guess she doesn’t want my friends to see that. Maybe she doesn’t want me to feel stupid or foalish? I have no idea. It’s strange – when my friends are there, I can fall asleep just fine without Rarity being there.
Now? I’m scared. Not like, a scared foal who can’t sleep. I’m not afraid of the moon, shadows, monsters, clowns, not even the purple watchmaker of light... Just scared of falling asleep, even though there’s nothing I want more than fading into darkness. Where is Rarity? Maybe something happened to her?
No. I can’t think of that. Nothing can happen to Rarity because if it did, I’d never be able to sleep again and this just isn’t possible, right? Right? Rarity is probably fine, just working late. After all, Rarity is strong and always cares about me and comes to say goodnight, every night since I remember.
Sometimes I think I’m scared of Rarity. But only a bit.
I kick the blanket off of me and let cold overwhelm me. I shudder, standing up. A quick look around the room. The soft carpet, the window, lots of toys. Drawings on the walls. Door that is still closed, because Rarity is still not here. On the other hoof, the window is open which is why the room is so cold. I walk to it. The carpet bends slightly under my hooves as I trot, limping slightly.
I close the window, trying not to look at the world behind it. There’s nothing interesting there. Well, at least not now. I’m tired, sleepy, cold, and scared, and yet I can’t do anything about it. I doubt anyone in the world can. Even Rarity wo–
Wait. What am I talking about? Rarity can do anything! She’s an adult. She’s an accomplished fashionista. I learned the word ‘accomplished’ from her. Rarity is, well, Rarity and I’m myself.
Unfortunately.
My head low, I walk back to the bed and drop on it without any finesse or grace. I couldn’t do that in any other way even if I was fine. After all, I’m just a clumsy little filly who can’t even get her cutie mark. In fact, I can’t even bring myself to actually care about the lack of my cutie mark.
I will never tell that to Apple Bloom, but being a blank flank is the least of the things that bother me. There are so many failures in me that this particular one is just not worth worrying about. I wish I could be like Rarity. I wouldn’t lie here trying not to think about my stupid life. Who knows, maybe I’d have a little sister to say goodnight to?
I stifle a sob. There are a few things in the world I wouldn’t want to see anymore and one of them is Rarity seeing me crying. She’s always trying to cheer me up, but deep inside, I know what she is hiding: the feeling that I failed her yet again.
I bury my face in the pillow. I definitely don’t want to see Rarity pity me again.
On nights like this one, I just want everything to end. As far as I can tell, it wasn’t always like that, but now the brief time between me going to bed and Rarity coming to say goodnight to me is even worse than–
I hear the lock clicking. The hinges creak, followed by the very familiar hoofsteps. I don’t even have to turn to know who’s that. After all, every night, before I go to sleep, Rarity comes to my room to say goodnight.
Sometimes I wish she didn’t.
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- QueenMoriarty · 2.1k words · 40 8 · 2k views
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Is Sweetie Belle secretly... Suicidal?
Is it possible-the darkness of her room is a metaphor for her secret envy and lack of self-esteem, causing her to think about possible self harm/harm to others...
Stockholm? I feel like the limping indicated abuse but idk. Could've been a CMC accident.
Is it bad that my first line of thought is that Rarity is molesting Sweetie?
6475426
That's possible. My aim was to be ambiguous enough for the readers to come with different interpretations.
6475594
I'd say this is quite likely.
6476665
I like your attention to details
6477570
You're not the only one
6477610 I see. On the one hand, I'm happy I'm not the only one. On the other...I have good reason to not be happy, know what I'm saying?
6477691
Yeah. Poor Sweetie
Well... that was something. I always feel that stories like these should be multi chapter with a real build up and conclusion... but if you do that then you may break my group's rules so... yeah.
Stockholm syndrome?
Sooo...I'm too simple to understand deep shit like this. Anyone mind translating?
6489486
You can take your pick from 6486843, 6475426, 6475594, or 6477570. Alternatively, you can come up with your own interpretation. Like, maybe she's just hitting puberty.
6490010 Mmmhmmm.
Sweetie Belle is growing up with a dependency fetish.
And that's why I can't interpret things.
6492562
That may be a thing too. Though I guess a look into her future relationships would require a higher rating.
6477570
I thought that might be the case, but based on how she thinks of Rarity I doubt it. Seems more like Sweetie has crippling self-esteem issues, which are made worse by Rarity being a successful fashionista that has saved the world on multiple occasions and still manages to find time to be a good sister. I don't think molestation is happening here because Sweetie doesn't seem to dread Rarity's arrival, she just wishes she wasn't so dependent on her sister.
6502711
I guess that's a less dark, but probably more realistic interpretation.
Is Rarity a prostitute? Evidence is here for my conclusion.
If Sweetie Belle falls asleep before Rarity is there, it would seem so as if someone will come and do something to her. As in, Rarity brings a pony home, and there may have been an incident involving a pony one time and Sweetie.
In the story, Sweetie hears her sister coming home, late at night. Rarity does her work downstairs, and the sound of a sewing machine is fairly loud, meaning Rarity would've been out.
The world behind it, in this context I believe, means the nightlife, the *ahem* Sluts on the street, in another phrase. The "She's an adult" line could mean Rarity can do whatever she wants, even if that includes selling sex.
Here's wild speculation.
The Facts- Rarity is isn't home until the end of the story.
Sweetie Belle can't go to sleep without Rarity being there.
According to Belle, bad things will happen if she falls asleep without Rarity's goodnight.
Sweetie Belle thinks Rarity is probably working late.
Logic POWAZ- Let's start with the line "Rarity's not here and I really want to sleep". Sweetie Belle means if Rarity isn't here, she won't sleep.
"I simply can't do that. I want, but, deep down, something tells me the if I did, bad things would happen." Sweetie Belle knows if she's asleep before Rarity's there, she will bring "her work home" is a sense.
"Rarity is probably fine, just working late." Rarity is still on the street, meaning stallions will still pay for rutting her, but Sweetie Belle's denying the fact that Rarity isn't fine.
"-trying not to look at the world behind it" Rarity's second profession, which is not one that you would like to know, much less a filly knowing a lot about it.
"Wait. What am I talking about? Rarity can do anything! She's an adult." Sweetie's trying to defend her sister from this profession, meaning since Rarity can "do anything" Sweetie Belle has to live with her decision.
"Sometimes I wish she didn’t." This is my ace-in-the-hole for this theory. Sweetie doesn't want to hear Rarity entering late at night. So if Rarity didn't enter late, she would have made her little sister feel safe, despite not saying goodnight. If Sweetie Belle wished her sister didn't say goodnight, that would mean Rarity would have never existed, or stayed home when she would like to have.
Boom. Drop the mic.
7254889
It works perfectly.
Well, I didn't think of such an interpretation, but I really like it
You know how you can tell how perverted an author is by the kinds of porn they write? When applicable, that is. On a similar note, you can tell how angsty and angry someone is by the kinds of "sad" fics they write.
You seem like a victim of bullying to me. The kind that deserved it.
Reading this fic was an exercise in not falling into a coma for how DULL this was written. I would call this your writing style, but that would offend anyone with some semblance of style. The way you write is more immature ramblings than anything, which made an already uninteresting premise worse.
Yes, your premise, no matter how much you like it(Based off a true story, I'll assume), was boring. Another "sibling A is suffering and sibling B can't tell in any way" story, how totally not overdone and overly dreadful to read! I was half expecting the writing to suddenly shift into a rant about how unfair the world is, with the droning and endless brooding you call "narration." Be honest, you have some unresolved feelings about bullies. I can tell with the magic of "having to deal with this shit on a weekly basis."
One thing I will expand on, I didn't mean that it's not a completely unrealistic story, having sibling B unable to tell that sibling A is depressed/suicidal/what have you. The problem is, you take this situation too black and white. In a real life scenario similar to this, you can expect sibling A to be at least a bit hostile to sibling B, who notices a few red flags, but doesn't take action for whatever reason, including "well my sibling's being a dick, this is probably just a rebellious phase" and "it's not that big a deal, they'll grow out of it." Maybe you'll take this advice, or maybe you'll prove to me that you're an annoying brat whose "bullies" were kids that, bless their hearts, just wanted to get you off their backs. I'm hoping for the former, but I'm an asshole so I hope for the latter at the same time. It's your choice.
In the meantime, here's a shorter version of this review.
EDIT:
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7874504
The very first assumption about me and already a wrong one.
Interesting enough for you to write a comment that is almost longer than all the other ones here combined.
Another assumption and wrong again. You know that people don't have to write from experience? in context of my other fics, it'd be pretty worrying if I wrote them from experience... But I'm just a comfortable, privileged guy with too much time and somewhat skewed imagination. I could go on, but I have more interesting things to do. Thanks for the opinion anyway.
7874504
Wow, you're a cranial rectum with a sphincter in need of a Midol.
Rather than trying to personally attack someone over something you don't like, how about some constructive criticism? Spelling errors, missing words, and those kinds of things. This thing you're calling a review looks a lot more like the ramblings of someone out to share his misinformed opinions with anyone he can force into reading; not unlike unconsensual anal probing.
7875612
Anywho, cheers to the Author for writing this! I enjoyed it. Gave me a touch of nostalgia from my childhood!
I see that this was written many years ago, and probably an inactive account (too lazy to find out rn) but I really liked this fic, along with reading all the theories/interpretations in the comments. Also can weirdly relate to this story, or, some interpretations of the story. (My mum comes into my room briefly every night, almost without exception, and I usually feel tense if I'm not awake when she does, even though she thinks I'm alseep, yada yada, enough about me). It's clear, from my interpretation at least, Sweetie has severe Dependency and self-esteem issues, that are causing her to slowly cut off the would that's outside the boutique and possibly leasing towards some kind of suicidal ideation, or, more, aliven't, "oh to not be born" or eternal sleep rather than actually wanting to die. Which I can also relate to.
My mind orginally went to molesting, but then she doesn't seem to fear the "good nights", although there's a possibility that through manipulation it's come to seem like a normal thing.
Although I'd enjoy a certain climax to the story, I quite like the open ended way and it really let's the imagination run wild
10810004
Also, it was my idea behind it, to leave it open to interpretation.
Hey, I'm still here