Just a Phase

by HorseStories

Part 1, Chapter 5 - Therapy

Author's Note:

Notice: This chapter contains depiction of electroconvulsive therapy, a method of 'curing homosexuality' still practiced in some places today. This chapter is also much darker than the previous ones, and ends on a much bleaker note. Just saying.

Sweetie slept fitfully that night, her dreams disturbed by the same recurring images of doctors and their butcher knives, only now they seemed so much realer, so much more vivid than before. Sweetie saw the whole spectacle as from her own perspective, helpless and afraid as the doctors shined harsh lights on her, shaved her head and made the first of many painful, slow incisions...

Sweetie Belle awoke with a start. She glanced at the clock by her bed - 4:13 AM. This was the third time she had awoken from the same nightmare, each time with more and more gruesome detail. Sweetie knew she should get more sleep, but she knew what would happen if she did.

Instead, Sweetie cast her thoughts back to the argument she had been in yesterday with her father. Now, all these hours later, she felt stupid for letting her emotion get the better of her. Sweetie Belle was unsure if her mother had picked up on the message behind the outburst, but her father definitely had. Sweetie knew it was pointless to pretend otherwise.

What would happen now? Would her father send her away? Sweetie Belle honestly wasn't sure. She suspected her father wouldn't go that far, but then again...

Sweetie Belle knew what would happen if she was sent away to be 'cured'. She absolutely could not let that happen. She needed to be able to leave home, at any given time.

Standing on tiptoes, so as not to make a noise, Sweetie climbed out of bed and began to gather some of her possessions. She emptied her piggy bank - 34 bits - and gathered other things she couldn't do without. All of these were packed away neatly inside one of her saddlebags, and hidden away in her closet.

That bag comes out when I do.

Feeling more secure in the knowledge she had a back-up plan, Sweetie Belle considered other paths her father could choose. He would almost certainly uphold his vow to keep her locked up inside, though it now seemed there was no end in sight for her confinement. Sweetie Belle momentarily considered leaving now. It would be simple, just grab the saddlebags and run out the door, and...

And then what? Sweetie Belle had nowhere to go, at least, nowhere permanent. She couldn't go stay with Apple Bloom, because Applejack wouldn't allow it - in fact, Applejack had started this whole conflict by telling her parents about her crying when...

No, that wasn't true. This whole mess was Sweetie Belle's fault, and she knew it. If she had just kept her temper last night, then she wouldn't be in this mess in the first place. Applejack was just doing what she thought was right.

Sweetie Belle considered her other options. Scootaloo lived in Ponyville orphanage, so that was out. Fluttershy? Sweetie Belle gave this prospect serious thought. Fluttershy had, after all, shown her kindness and understanding. Perhaps she could live with her, maybe help her with the animals.

On the other hand, when the police came looking for a fillyfooler runaway, the first place they'd look would be Fluttershy's home - after all, Fluttershy was willing to discuss her support for gay rights with Sweetie Belle, so it wasn't unreasonable to assume Fluttershy was known for her liberal views. Sweetie Belle knew Fluttershy had strong resolve, but when she was being interrogated by two burly police ponies, Sweetie Belle didn't think she'd last ten seconds.

If Sweetie Belle was going to run away, she needed to think of somewhere outside Ponyville. Canterlot? Impossible, too much security. Sweetie Belle would be jumping out of the frying pan and into the fire. Another large city would suit her - Manehattan, perhaps. Sweetie didn't like the idea of being alone in Manehattan, but surely anything was better than having part of her brain removed. Manehattan was big, too, so nopony would be able to find her there.

She could get there by train in a matter of hours, and disappear. But where would she stay? She didn't have enough money to afford a place to stay long-term, or even for one night. Sweetie would end up sleeping rough, and Sweetie Belle knew enough about the world to figure out that a homeless filly in a big city like Manehattan was unlikely to last long.

As Sweetie Belle considered this grim prospect, she remembered her father's vow to bring in a psychologist. Sweetie Belle had heard about therapy to treat fillies like her, but had passed it off as pseudoscience - if there really was a way of fixing ponies like that, then there would be no need for lobotomies. Still, it was possible her father believed in this theory. Perhaps he would simply schedule her a psychologist, and leave it at that?

If so, Sweetie had nothing to worry about. All she had to do was appear to respond to treatment, and convince other ponies she had changed. Of course, putting this plan in action would take time. She could not pretend to be miraculously cured after one session, or her father would see right through her. She would also have to put on a show for her therapist, or else her father would not be convinced. Could Sweetie Belle pull off a good enough performance to fool a therapist? Possibly.

Sweetie Belle checked her clock. 5:43 AM. If she fell asleep now, she'd still have just over an hour's rest before she had to leave for school...

---

Sweetie Belle slowly rose and stretched. Hazily, she focused her eyes on the clock in front of her. 11:43 AM.

'Oh nononononononono....'

Sweetie Belle quickly stood up, and, feeling the blood rush to her head, quickly fell over. Recovering, she clattered downstairs to see her father calmly sitting at the kitchen table. Sweetie noticed he did not seem surprised to see her - in fact, he smiled when he saw her come downstairs, as if her had been expecting her.

'Ah, Sweetie Belle. Why don't you sit down?'

'Dad, are you mad? I'm late for school, Cheerilee's gonna kill me-'

'Miss Cheerliee, Sweetie Belle. Anyway, I thought you should stay home today. I think we should have a chat, after yesterday's... excitement.'

Sweetie Belle cautiously sat down next to her father. She waited for the next words to fall from his lips, preparing to rush upstairs and grab her saddlebag if necessary.

'Sweetie Belle, what we're about to discuss has not been mentioned to your mother, and I think we should keep it that way, yes?'

Sweetie said nothing, but nodded affirmatively. Privately, she was not surprised to hear her father didn't have the guts to tell her mother, but she still said nothing.

'Good. Now Sweetie, I'm not stupid. I know exactly what I heard last night, and now your abnormal behavior, the secrecy, it all makes sense to me. I think last night was a cry for help from you.'

Sweetie said nothing.

'Sweetie Belle, you are in a... difficult stage of your life. Sometimes, there's a lot of confusion among fillies your age, and I only want to make this part of your life easier for you. Do you understand?'

Start by butting out of it, Sweetie thought. On the outside, she nodded.

'Well then, I think you should know that I have scheduled a therapist for you. His name is Comet Spark, and he specializes in young ponies like you who have... abnormal thoughts. From now on, you will meet with him every week, and he will help you turn your life around. Understood?'

Sweetie Belle nodded, emotionless on the outside but bubbling with happiness on the inside. All she had to do was fool her father and some old therapist, and she would be free. Sweetie's only concern was how long it might take. She presumed 'therapy' would be her talking about her 'feelings' and whatnot, but she wasn't sure how much therapy would be required until she was 'cured'. Would she be expected to continue when she was older?

'Well Sweetie Belle, it's good to see you're being mature about this. The therapist starts today - he said he would arrive around 12, so I'll leave you two to get on with it.'

Sweetie Belle heard her father leave through the front door, then went to prepare herself breakfast. Something about the name of the therapist struck her as notable, and she recognized what it was - Brisk Spark and Comet Spark shared the same last name. Were they related? Perhaps, but Sweetie Belle did not think much of it. After all, she barely knew Brisk Spark. In fact, she suspected Brisk Spark had been avoiding her after she turned down his offer of a date. Of course, that had been before Brisk Spark started dating Apple Bloom...

A sudden knock at the door brought Sweetie Belle back to reality. Opening the door, she was greeted by a young stallion, with a brown coat and grey hair. Perched upon his snout were a set of thick, 'hipster-style' glasses, and he carried a bulging saddlebag.

'Sweetie Belle? My name is Comet Spark. Your father said you'd be home. Is there anypony else here?'

'Uh, No.' Sweetie Belle was slightly taken aback by the appearance of Comet Spark. In her mind, she had pictured an old, foul-tempered stallion, and she was surprised at how... normal he seemed.

'Come on in, I guess.'

'Thank you, Sweetie Belle. I am very anxious to get started...'

---

Sweetie Belle watched as Comet Spark set up a large projector in her living room, and placed two tapes next to it. Comet Spark indicated for her to sit in the centre of the room, facing the projector, which she did with a sense of dread.

'Okay, Sweetie Belle, one last thing. I know it look a liiiiittle' scary, but I must ask you to wear this.'

Sweetie watched as Comet Spark produced a piece of headgear she could not have dreamed up in her worst nightmares. It had a long, metal pole designed to bolt into the ground, keeping the head in place, and two metal clamps around the eye sockets.

'No way.'

'Sweetie Belle, don't make this difficult for me now. If you don't cooperate, this will only take longer. I promise, it doesn't hurt.'

Sweetie was about to tell Comet Spark exactly what he could do with his torture device, but realized it was futile. The more she resisted, after all, the longer she would be stuck in therapy.

The fitting of the headgear was relatively simple, and Sweetie Belle was surprised to see that there was indeed no pain, unless she attempted to close her eyes. She was also rooted to the spot, unable to move, staring at the projector. It suddenly occurred to Sweetie Belle that she had no way of knowing who this pony was - she had not validated his identity, and allowed him to strap her down in her own living room.

And you want to live in Manehattan, Sweetie Belle?

Comet Spark fumbled with her horn, attaching two small pads. Sweetie Belle had no idea what they were for - to measure magical energy?

'Okay, Sweetie Belle, tell me if you feel this.'

Suddenly, Sweetie Belle felt her horn split in two, sending burning channels of pain throughout her own body. Despite her agony, she was unable to emit the ear-splitting shriek she would normally have given off in response to such pain. Indeed, she had lost control of all of her bodily functions, and felt her head loll sideways and foam pour out of her mouth.

And then, as quickly as it had started, the pain was gone. Sweetie Belle spat out the foam in her mouth, feeling humiliated. She turned to face Comet Spark. 'What the fu-'

'Sweetie Belle, please'. Sweetie Belle resented being silenced in this fashion, but stopped anyway.

'Sweetie Belle, this is not going to be like regular therapy. I cannot cure you just by talking things over with you. What we are practicing now is called electroconvulsive aversion therapy. Now, I am going to show you two videos, ten seconds of one video and ten seconds of another. When I am showing one video, I am going to turn off the electrodes. When I show the other, they will be on. Understand?'

Sweetie Belle had a suspicion she knew what types of 'video' these were, and frantically shook her head. 'I don't care, I quit! I'm not doing this anymore, I don't want to-'

'Sweetie Belle, this is not your decision. Your father gave me permission to perform this therapy, and legally speaking that's all I need. Are you ready to begin?'

Not even waiting for an answer, the Comet Spark started the first tape.

As Sweetie Belle had expected, it was a pornographic video of a mare and a stallion, causing Sweetie Belle to flush crimson despite herself. In truth, Sweetie had never been more repulsed at anything in her life. It wasn't just the contents of the video, which, while disgusting on their own, were tolerable. It was the fact that she was being shown them against her will, by a strange stallion she had never met before. Her father had agreed to this?

Soon, the tape switched, and Sweetie heard the buzzing of electrodes and the return of the pain. Sweetie was slightly more prepared this time, but still found herself immobile and unable to move. The pain was exquisite, unlike anything she had ever experienced. Through her agony, she could make out the tape, another pornographic film, this time featuring two mares. Sweetie Belle assumed this 'therapy' was meant to make her associate pain with arousal, but there was nothing arousing about the film before her. Sweetie Belle could clearly see the two mares on the screen were loathing every single second of the experience.

Once again, the tape switched and the pain stopped. Sweetie Belle stiffed again, and spat out the foam that had collected in her mouth. The first film had resumed, and Sweetie Belle saw, once again, the same look in the mare's eyes. Even worse was the look in the stallion's eyes, a look a pony might give a choice piece of meat.

Once again, the tape switched, reigniting the electrodes and causing Sweetie Belle to seize up. Again, Sweetie Belle saw the haunted looks in the eyes of the two mares. Sweetie Belle could only assume they were being paid to do this. Sweetie Belle could not imagine being this desperate for cash - in the same position, she would rather go without. However, the deep red tracks Sweetie could make out - which ran along the foreleg of one of the mares - made her suspect 'going without' was not an option for this mare.

Once again the tape switched...

---

Sweetie Belle lost track of the passage of time sometime during the 'therapy'. Eventually, however, the tapes came to their grotesque conclusion (especially the one involving the mare and the stallion) and Sweetie was released.

Initially, she had planned to throw herself upon Comet Spark and pummel him, but all of her energy had been sapped. She could do little to resist when Comet Spark lifted her up and placed her on a nearby sofa, and she fell asleep almost instantaneously.

---

Sweetie Belle woke up some time later. The clock in the kitchen read 3:43 PM. She had no idea how long the session had lasted, but she would reliably estimate an hour. Her eyes were puffy and red from being held open for so long, and she realized she had vomited violently, both during the 'therapy', and also in her sleep.

Sweetie Belle felt like the biggest fool in Equestria. She had expected to run hoops around Comet Sparks, simply feeding him lies about her emotions and feelings. She wasn't sure she could take a single session more.

Of course, she could just leave. Grab her saddlebags, leave a note, slip off to Manehattan, and never come back.

Yeah, sure Sweetie Belle. You run off to Manehattan, and you'll be starring in one of those films for food in a matter of months.

Sweetie Belle contemplated, for the very first time, how very disadvantaged her position was. She couldn't run away, she couldn't stop her therapy - her father would simply force her to go - and she couldn't lie about completing her therapy when one more session would drive her insane.

Sweetie Belle wanted to scream, but she simply didn't have the energy. Instead, she picked herself up and went to the kitchen. Collecting a damp rag and a bowl, she began to clean up after herself.

Comments

[HorseStories]

This chapter of Just a Phase brought to you by A Clockwork Orange.

[SyntheticSpark]

This was one of the first stories that actually disgusted me because of the content. It saddens me that this could actually happen, and terrifies me more as I am a homesexual(Ish) person. Me, the guy who went through things like Cupcakes and the many versions of Fallout Equestria, Butterflies, etc, and felt fine, conversion therapy terrified me.

[Misty Spell]

Well, as far as I'm concerned Sweetie Belle is now justified if she ever decides to murder her father or that therapist guy.

[Ice Star]

"" -Ice Star

[Crescent Minor]

7280545 I saw that movie far too young.
I couldn't read that straight ... my stomach hurts ... at least you warned us. I think otherwise I'd be much worse off. Thanks for that.

[Crescent Minor]

7280896 Yeah, I know what you mean. It's different when it's real, and as selfish as it sounds to say, different when you know it could be you. I once was watching a testimonial video from someone who was put through some brutal aversion therapy, and I just couldn't handle it when he started talking about what they did to him. I had a minor panic attack and nearly threw up.
It's not that I wouldn't care otherwise, because it's horrible when that happens to anyone. But it's substantially worse knowing that if my parents were different people, I might've been tortured like that when I came out to them. And there are a lot of people in the world who honestly believe that this sort of abuse would be the best thing for people like us. That's the most sickening part, to me: people who do things like Cosmic Spark just did to Sweetie Belle, they think they're helping.
That kind of personal connection hits harder than any other kind of horror: it's hardly surprising.

[jack the blu-jay]

Sweetie belle maybe flutter shy would have some bits and food she couldn't offer shelter but I think she would give you that....

Yeah, sure Sweetie Belle. You run off to Manehattan, and you'll be starring in one of those films for food in a matter of months.
Well they say that if you like your job you don't have to work a day in your life

[jack the blu-jay]

7282806 HOLY SHIT ITS REAL!

[Viper Pit]

Keep in mind folks this happened in real life when they thought homosexuality was a desiese or a mental disability

[Acadians6545]

8033987
Very real. And still practiced in some places. Illegally practiced I should specify.

7282806

7280896
Yeah it's extremely different when you realize that this shit really used to happen. I got lucky my mom told me from a young age she'd love me always whether I was straight gay or bi.