The Price You Pay

by Element of Malice

Epilogue

Author's Note:

Written for those who requested to know what happened afterwards.

Nobody blamed Sweetie Belle for what she did more than she blamed herself. Despite it coming as a shock at first, being told the whole story, everyone came to understand that it was all one big, twisted, sick, unforgiving accident. They could only pity her for having to deal with the weight that it came with. She hated their pity, but not as much as she hated herself or her disgusting cutie mark.

Sweetie Belle had been moping around for the last couple of days, not a care or desire for anything. Or, it could have been days, maybe it was hours. What difference did it make when time no longer held any meaning? It seems like she learned the truth about her special talent minutes ago but that point in time felt like it was a lifetime away.

She sat staring out the second-floor window of the Carousel Boutique, lost in her thoughts and feelings. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn't feel hungry regardless of the fact she was barely eating whatever Rarity could coax her to. Her sister was at least glad that she wasn’t trying to starve herself by resisting food altogether.

Despite her best efforts, Rarity had done everything she could think of, beginning with ridding the horrendous paint stains from her coat. She had taken Sweetie Belle to her favorite ice cream parlor, only to end up spoon-feeding her every bite until it eventually melted into a half-finished gooey mess.

A tea party with Fluttershy in the park yielded similar results as Sweetie Belle just sat staring into the horizon for over an hour, not doing a single fun activity. At one point, a red ball belonging to another foal rolled up to Sweetie Belle, bumping into the filly. Seeing this raised the two mares’ hopes for a change to happen, but it was in vain as Sweetie Belle merely batted it away. Fluttershy eventually sat next to the filly, gently stroking her mane, trying to comfort her with kindness as she did with her animals at times.

Even a full-blown, Pinkie Pie approved party failed to make her crack so much as a smile. The party came to an abrupt end when Pinkie instinctively made a balloon animal attempting to cheer up Sweetie Belle the way it had with many other foals. Being close enough to a doll, it only reminded her of the reason for her grief, making her scream and cower in fear from the newly resurfaced memory. When the balloon animal deflated, it only made matters worse, and she ended up crying for the next few hours just like she had the day it happened.

Sweetie Belle could hear Rarity approaching her room, most likely with another ’new opportunity’ that had presented itself. It had been a couple of days perhaps after the party, days, hours, weeks for all she cared, she didn't keep track anymore. Sweetie Belle peeled herself away from the window and moved to the center of the room.

Rarity knocked on her sister's bedroom door, “Sweetie Belle, there's someone's here to see you.” she said in a cheerful tone, but only to try and lighten the gloomy atmosphere that had been breeding like a mold for nearly a week since the incident. Truthfully, Rarity was desperate.

Desperate to see a positive change in her sister's mood.

Desperate to experience some mishap usually caused by her sister, big or small, making her angry, only to forgive her some hours later.

But above all, she was desperate for anything and everything in between. To just have the filly she knew, loved, and cared for back to her old mischievous, naive, curious self. At this point, seeing her sister smile, even if it were for just a fleeting moment, would be worth more than all the bits and dresses in the world to Rarity.

Rarity pushed the door open and looked at her sister sitting quietly in the middle of the dimly lit room. The filly’s head and shoulders were drooped in remorse, ears folded flat against her head like they had been all week. Nowadays she only saw her moving after being told to, otherwise, she remained as stationary as an inanimate object.

Her once lustrous fur and mane had faded into the dullest monochrome colors Rarity had ever seen. Her eyes, once full of life and wonder, we're now no different than boarded up windows to her soul. They were devoid of any and all emotions circled by dark rings, a clear sign caused by her lack of sleep.

Sweetie Belle responded, but in a mood that was to be expected, “Are they finally here to take me away to Tartarus where I belong, or exile me forever, or banish me to the moon?” She muttered, her words sounding as dull and empty as she looked and felt.

“Sweetie Belle,” Rarity pleaded, not wanting to see her sister in this state any longer. “We’ve talked about this over a dozen times. You're not going to be punished for what happened.”

“That’s too bad… It’s what’s supposed to happen to monsters like me.” She said, Rarity barely making out the words. She watched her sister start scratching at the floor with her hoof looking twice as miserable than she had seconds ago.

Furrowing her brow, Rarity turned to the other pony that had accompanied her, “Do you want to introduce yourself, or should I?”

A dark inky grey pegasus mare with a white mane and purple thick-rimmed glasses trotted into the room, “Sweetie Belle, My name is Dr. Smalltalk.” her voice was soft like Fluttershy’s but it reminded her more of Twilight’s. “I'm a psychiatrist who specializes in helping foals that are suffering from severe trauma.”

“A doctor?” her head pulled up a bit to look at Smalltalk, as though she were excited. “So you’re here to lock me up in a room wearing one of those weird jackets.” She then averted her gaze to look at the ground again, “That’s good news.” To Rarity’s horror, the disheartened tone coming from her sister was the most cheerful sounding one she had heard all week. “It’s about time I get what I deserve for being the murderer I am.”

Rarity stormed over to her sister and slapped her across the face, “That is enough, Sweetie Belle!” She screamed, “Get over it already! Sooner or later, you’ll have to quit acting like a child!” She stomped her hoof on the last word.

“Rarity,” Smalltalk said, grabbing the unicorn’s attention, “She is a child.” The doctor calmly reminded her of that one simple fact.

Rarity looked back at her sister, hoping to see a difference in Sweetie Belle's expression like shock, fear, or even anger for all she cared, but there was none. The filly only turned her head back slowly to look at her sister, a small trickle of blood now drizzled from her nose. “What’d you stop for? Finish what you started, it’s not like I care.” The nearly inaudible words seemed to tumble out with what little was left of her broken sister.

Tears welled in Rarity’s eyes as she lunged at Sweetie Belle, apologetically embracing the empty shell of the filly in a passionate hug. “I’m so sorry!” she whimpered in despair, “I should never have lashed out at you like that.” She said, crying out all the tears she'd been holding back for the past week.

Eventually, the sniveling unicorn looked back at Smalltalk, “I’m at my wit’s end, I don’t know what else to do. I just want to have my sister back.” She blubbered out.

“I understand, you’re not the first one I’ve heard that from, and sadly I guarantee you're far from being the last,” Smalltalk said, assessing as much of the situation unfolding before her as she could. “From what I’ve gathered so far, it seems like Sweetie Belle is grieving which is perfectly natural. However, I'm seeing strong indications of cognitive withdrawal.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your sister’s in the guilt phase of the grieving process and feels like she needs to be punished for what she did to the point where she has mentally imprisoned herself. More importantly, this can result in some negative drawbacks. Worst-case scenario, even after I do my absolute best to bring her back, the result might be someone like your sister. With the problem stemming from such a… for lack of a more appropriate word, ‘unique’ source, she’ll be left with some pretty deep scars for the rest of her life.”

She looked at Sweetie Belle, unable to not feel sorry for this little filly. “Every pony in Equestria remembers the day they get their cutie mark. I can’t even begin to imagine how much damage something like this could affect her in the coming years. I hate to say it, but this is one of the worst cases I’ve had to deal with.”

“Please, I’ll do anything to even get a part of her back no matter what the cost is, just as long as it’s not this.” Rarity said on her knees to the Doctor. “I’m begging you!”

“I promise that I’ll do everything in my expertise. Let’s talk more in private about my terms and conditions. There are also a few other things that need to be discussed as well.”

As soon as they left the room, Sweetie Belle waited until they were out of earshot. Once they were far enough away, she had to work quickly.

The filly shuffled over to her bed and pulled out a small, simple object from under the pillow. Something that she had been working on in secret for the past few days. All it needed were a few more finishing touches, and it would be complete.

This has to work. It’s better for everyone if it does.

Once she was done adding the last few ingredients, the filly looked at the end product. She absolutely hated it with every last fiber of her being, and yet for the first time in days, a smile tickled the corner of the filly’s mouth. “Hey Opal, I made a new toy for you.”

---

Rarity and Smalltalk were interrupted from their conversations when an energetic ball of white fluff came barreling through the living room. Rarity though this behavior was odd for Opalescence at this time. Usually, her cat would be this hyper at some point in the middle of the night, unless she had a toy with catnip involved in it’s making. Rarity had stopped buying anything like that a while ago because it always ended up torn to shreds before the day's end.

“Opal, what’s gotten into you?” She saw what the cat had been playing with and picked it up with her magic. To make sure it wasn’t another dead animal of sorts, she brought it closer, when she did she immediately wished it was as her heart stopped beating.

Ice shot through her veins as she dropped what remained of the miniature cloth Sweetie Belle figurine covered in catnip. She rushed to her sister’s room, threw open the door, and screamed in anguish, followed by a tearful cry of agony and despair. Sweetie Belle matched what Rarity's worst fears had led her to believe after seeing the doll.

Smalltalk arrived seconds after Rarity, only to witness the dreadful scene, “Rarity. I’m so sorry for your loss. I… I barely even got to know her.” Smalltalk knew many different common reactions grieved individuals took to cope with this level of sadness. She was glad the unicorn chose the least hostile option and used her as a shoulder to cry on.

Comments

[Vampiro]

Now that was some old school Tales From The Crypt material. Consider doing more horror stories. Maybe an anthology?

[Brony1337]

That is just sad.

I like it. Well written, no spelling mistakes I can remember and the way the chars act is realistic.

Oh, btw, you sure this is “E” ?

[Pinkameanie]

This story is crazy but I love it, maybe we could see some sequel like this for (if words left scars) would really like to see more of DT get what's coming to her

[Element of Malice]

10496066
Wrote myself another dark fic if you’re looking for something to read.

[Element of Malice]

11429483
You’re welcome to try if you think you can pull it off, I personally don’t really have much intention to expand on what I already have. Though if I did it would involve an alternate ending about an older Sweetie Bell.

What did you have in mind?

[eiggengrau]

Wow, that is the most innovative suicide I have bumped into in YEARS. Obviously, sympathy and horror all around for the entire cast of victims, but wow. Are you okay?

[Element of Malice]

11548075
Try asking me after reading, this one. I often feel as though I’m bouncing between a more mild version of either Rainbow Dash or Scootaloo, but honestly, right now, I kinda wish it was that bad.

[eiggengrau]

11548208
Truth is, i had already read that one.
So how, we asks ourselves, does 'that one' contribute to the question of your okayness or lack thereof? You say you bounce between them-- Dash's self loathing for failing to (fully) save Scoots VS Scootaloo's willingness to risk her life for Just One Flight with her hero? Honestly neither position seems as grim as this current story*. Dash's sorrow is reasonable, but she has the chance to eventually grow past it. Scoots bucked up, but if she makes it out of the hospital she has a chance to evaluate whether her choice was a good one.

But, when you say:

I kinda wish it was that bad.

is that that thing where one spends soooo much time being depressed that one misses the depression when it's not there? I hope you can climb out of that hole, but only if you want to. In the mean time, i hope you keep writing!
Cheers

*seriously -- how often does anypony feel sorry for DT? That's an accomplishment right there!

[Element of Malice]

11548348

So how, we asks ourselves, does 'that one' contribute to the question of your okayness or lack thereof?

To provide a more direct answer, I went to bed last night being okay with the idea of not waking up tomorrow. But I’m sane enough to know and accept the disappointed of that not happening the next morning. I can’t afford to be depressed; I can’t even afford a new pair of glasses. But there’s something that Rainbow Dash did in that story that I haven’t been able to do since 2013. She cried.

[Nebbie]

Hmm, I think the tags on this are rather off; "Thriller" and "Horror" imply, respectively, awful sights and an edge-of-your-seat feeling with the sudden turns, but this is just a slow-burn tragedy, so I think they should be replaced with "Drama" and "Tragedy".