> The Price You Pay > by Element of Malice > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- > The Price You Pay > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- The rain started pitter-pattering against the windows of Carousel Boutique. A massive storm was scheduled for this evening that would last throughout the night, and the rain was steadily coming down harder. But the pounding of hooves soon overpowered the sound of the rain as Sweetie Belle stomped up the walkway, burst open the door, and stormed into her house. Sweetie Belle was fuming and grumbling under her breath for a good reason. She had just come back from school and had been working on an art assignment. However, a classmate named Diamond Tiara just so happened to be passing her from behind before ‘accidentally’ spilling a whole bucket of red paint into her mane. The unicorn filly promptly shook herself off, flinging paint every which way. She then grabbed her saddlebag and tossed it across the room like she usually did after returning from school. This time she put all her weight into the throw, causing the bag to slam against the wall so hard it rattled the window not far from the point of impact. It fell to the floor, leaving paint residue in its wake. She was lucky that it did not hit the glass. “I HATE HER!! She’s the absolute WORST!!” Sweetie Belle howled, reeling back on her haunches and stomped her forehooves as hard as her weight would allow in sync with the first crack of lightning. Her outburst echoed through the empty boutique. Rarity had not returned yet from pre-storm clean-up, so Sweetie Belle was all alone in her self-fulmination. She slogged up the stairs to the bathroom, grumbling her frustrations. She was mad at the fact her sister was always helping others instead of being there when she needed her. She turned on the tub faucet and began taking a bath to wash the paint out of her coat and mane. After shampooing herself four times, she got out and wiped the steam off the mirror to see if there were any spots she missed. Doing so, she found that this particular paint had stained its color into her white coat. What was left behind were ugly reddish-brown blotches and dried flakes peppering her fur like confetti. The longer she looked at herself, the higher her anger rose. What had started as a loud grunt quickly turned into a rage-filled scream as another crack of lightning sounded. The storm outside was about at its peak and would continue as it was throughout the night. Sweetie Belle stomped into her room and slammed the door with all the force she could muster. “The next time I see Diamond Tiara’s stupid smug face, I’m going to ‘accidentally’ buck her tooth out! That way, she’ll whistle every time she speaks!!” Sweetie Belle jumped onto her bed and screamed into her pillow. She began punching her pillow repeatedly before an idea popped into her head. It was a silly idea, but what she was doing would not do her enough justice to get the revenge she wanted for what had happened. Even if by some miracle she managed to do what she said she would, Diamond Tiara would just run crying to her father and tattletale on her. But, there might be an alternative that would not involve violence, and she could vent out all the rage she had built up. Sweetie Belle had recently been looking up patterns so she could make her very own doll. If she were to use some of the scrapes that her sister had thrown away, that would be more than enough to make a doll, she could pretend was her archnemesis, Diamond Tiara. She wasn’t as good at stitching or sewing as Rarity was, but the filly had picked up enough to at least know the basics. Despite the time that had passed in the bath, Rarity still hadn’t returned home, which made it easier for Sweetie Belle to trespass into her sister’s place of work. The door creaked open as the lightning outside cracked, illuminating the room for a brief moment. The wind and rain pounded against the windows as hard as ever. With her determination fueled by her growing rage, she got to work. There were plenty of fabric scraps at her disposal, and for the next three hours, Sweetie Belle cut, stitched, sewed, stuffed, and worked on the doll to make it look perfect. If she were able to use magic like her sister, it would have helped shave off a few minutes to complete her masterpiece. Once she was satisfied with her work, she stepped back for a better look. She glowered at it attempting to glare a hole right through it, putting every ounce of rage she had into the doll. The wind, rain, and lightning were the perfect reflections for her feelings within. It was a very crude depiction of the pony it was supposed to represent, but it would only take a second glance to know who it was meant to be. The coat was made from multi-colored patches of various fabrics. The two button-eyes were offset one being higher and the other being a hair to the right. She had painted the cutie marks in their place, but it wasn’t the most accurate depiction of the real thing, one having an extra loop. The next few minutes were spent with her staring at the doll as if she was waiting for it to taunt her the way Diamond Tiara would, saying something like, ”what a waste of your time.” “It doesn’t even look like me, you stupid blank flank.” “If you pulled that out of a dumpster, that means you were in one.” “I would never in a million millennia’s look like… whatever that rat’s nest of a thing is.” Sweetie Belle gritted her teeth and responded, “Oh yeah?! Well, that’s what you look like to me!” She said before giving the doll a hard right to the jaw, knocking it to the ground with a light thud. “Ha! Do you call that a punch? I bet every bit in your worthless piggy bank that I could hire a butterfly who can hit harder than that. Oh wait, you used it all up to buy that piece of garbage, didn’t you?” “Well then, how about this one!” she bucked the doll in the stomach with everything she had, sending it sliding across the floor until it hit the wall, “Is that hard enough for you!” She rushed at the doll and grabbed one of the hind legs with her teeth, flung it over her head, and slammed it to the ground. Sweetie Belle loomed over it as another bolt of lightning flashed. “No, please,” she imagined it saying, “I’m sorry, I promise I’ll never bully you again.” “It’s too late for your apologies!” Sweetie Belle started pommeling the doll in the face repeatedly. “You stuck up, snobby, rich, selfish, dirty rotten, spoiled little…” Her words eventually became garbled nonsense. She continued her onslaught, releasing all of her feelings into the doll. When she stopped, the head had lost its shape, and one of the button eyes had fallen off to who knows where. The other was barely hanging on by a thread. What used to be the horn was now misshapen and crooked on the forehead, but she was not finished. Sweetie Belle bit down on the ear and pulled until the threads popped loose and tore off. She spat it out of her mouth then moved to the right foreleg, biting down as hard as she could and ripping it off. Upon detaching the second leg, the little unicorn found that it was easier to tear off when she bit, twisted, and pulled. She removed the last two legs in the same manner, bending and twisting them in ways that they weren’t meant to. It wasn’t long before she went after the tail and finally, the head. Because the neck was bigger than the legs, it was harder to pull off but not impossible, especially with all the hatred and anger Sweetie Belle still had. Once it was removed, she snarled and shook it as hard as she could like a hungry Timber Wolf. If anyone were watching, they would have seen the veins bulging out of her neck as she huffed harder than a minotaur. Breathing as hard as ever, she spat the doll’s head out of her mouth, “Not so tough now, are you!? Serves you right!!” She gave a piece of the toy another kick before going to her room and climbed into bed, not bothering to clean up any of the mess she had left behind. Shortly thereafter, she started sobbing. Now that her tantrum had subsided, she was in a valley of sorrow and despair. She knew, deep down, that there was no way of getting the revenge she sought. Eventually, she cried herself to sleep without even realizing that her flank was no longer blank. When Sweetie Belle woke up the next morning, she saw that the storm had subsided during the night. But not before a loose branch had shattered a window in the store area of Carousel Boutique. Because of that, there was a considerable amount of rain damage on the inside. The filly could not understand, though, why there was a ribbon wrapped in a bow on the branch responsible. Her sisters doing, perhaps? It wouldn’t be the first time. She merely cocked an eyebrow at it before slowly walking into the kitchen for breakfast. Rarity was still nowhere to be seen. Probably for the best, seeing as, despite the broken window and water-soaked floor, there was also red paint splattered all over the front entrance, stairs, and merchandise. Sweetie Belle would rather be at school than want to be around when her sister returned to see the carnage. Not knowing how soon Rarity would be back, she quickly grabbed a snack, wolfing it down. She rushed over to her saddlebag still covered in paint that had now dried, put it on, and galloped towards the back door. She hesitated for a moment, considering putting on a cloak to hide the horrible blemishes the paint left in her fur. She eventually decided against it, figuring it would take too long to find one. Instead, she made her saddlebag as big as it could possibly get before she mentally prepared herself to head straight to school. However, that was when she noticed her cutie mark. A face splitting grin erupted on Sweetie Belle’s face just as quickly as it evaporated and turned into a look of distastefulness. It blended in beautifully with the ugly stains in her coat, making it look like it complimented the already unsightly discolorations. She did not have time to examine it for long as she could hear her sister’s voice and hoof steps coming closer. Once Sweetie Belle ran out the door, she made a beeline for the schoolhouse. The whole way there, she could hear the murmuring of all the grownup ponies talking in a way that seemed to be focused on one topic. That made the filly uncomfortable, feeling like she was the one they were talking about. She tried to think of small thoughts. Maybe they wouldn’t see her and her ugly blotchy coat. She kept pulling and tugging at her saddlebag, which only ended up slowing her down and causing her anxiety to rise. She now wished she had a cloak of some kind to hide behind.  Sweetie Belle was able to barely make it all the way to school without shedding a tear, but it was a close call. If anything, she just didn’t want to give Diamond Tiara an excuse to call her a crybaby. After quickly scanning the room, she didn’t see Diamond Tiara anywhere, causing her to breathe a sigh of relief. However, she did see Silver Spoon, a filly she knew was Tiara’s little follower, but she seemed to be crying. The little unicorn wordless went to her desk and sat down. She felt like a classmate would acknowledge the elephant in the room at any moment, starting a chain reaction of humiliation. In the meantime, before the inevitable, Sweetie Belle spared another glance at her new cutie mark, giving it a more thorough look. “Hey you,” A pegasus filly whispered to an earth pony, “have you read today’s newspaper?” “No ah haven’t. Mah sister wouldn’t let me even look at it this mornin’. Which is strange because I like readn’ the funny section.” She replied. “Well, I managed to snag one and… well, I guess it would make sense why your sister wouldn’t let you read it, it’s horrible what happened to Diamond Tiara.” What had happened? Sweetie Belle’s hearing grew sharper than her sister’s best fabric scissors, dying to know all the juicy details. She could even hear the saliva in the pegasus’s mouth smacking around as they continued, “Well, you see… uh, late last night­—” The teacher, Cheerilee, came into the room, disrupting the conversation. “I’ll tell you later.” No! I was so close! Sweetie Belle thought to herself, disappointed that she had to find out later. Cheerilee walked to the center of the front as she did when she was going to make an announcement. She also looked nervous about what was going to be said. “For those of you who are unaware, Diamond Tiara… will no longer be coming back to our class...” Everything else Cheerilee said drowned out. The feeling of excitement hit Sweetie Belle so hard she nearly launched out of her seat. She wouldn’t have to be dealing with Diamond Tiara any more, or having to always look over her shoulder, or worry about having her day ruined, or— “Sweetie Belle!” Cheerilee said, finally snapping the unicorn out of her fantasy world. “Nothing… uh, I mean, yes mam?” She gave a grin of embarrassment as her face turned warm from blushing. Cheerilee gave a hard look at the filly, “I know you haven’t been listening. I’m also aware of your feelings towards Diamond Tiara due to the events of yesterday, but this is a serious matter, so please treat it as such.” “Okay.” How could the topic of Diamond Tiara not coming back be considered a serious matter? Not that she was the least bit interested in that spoiled rotten filly, but she still wanted to know why. “Anyway, as I was saying, seeing as all of you were her classmates, her father, Filthy Rich, would like you all to attend her funeral that will be ...” Again, the world faded around Sweetie Belle. She simultaneously understood the gravity of this situation and the meaning of her cutie mark. All the excitement from less than a minute ago was turned into regret and horror. This feeling hit Sweetie Belle harder than the first. She felt nauseated as the blood drained from her face, recalling the events of last night. While doing her research on doll-making, there was one that she read about whose sole purpose was to cause harm to another. It was in a book about the history of dolls from different nations and countries around the world. To make ones like that required powerful enchantments, incantations, and even ingredients that the book did not provide for obvious reasons. Sweetie Belle could barely levitate a pair of scissors or even a clothespin. The only thing she had of Diamond Tiara was hatred for her, so how? Surely her rage alone couldn’t be all that was needed, could it? It couldn’t possibly have been her, right? Why then, after she made a doll to harm someone, who is now dead, did she have one as a cutie mark? There’s no way this was a coincidence. Suddenly she didn’t see herself covered in red paint stains anymore but something else, something that made her butterfly filled insides do somersaults. If she were lucky, maybe just maybe she could hide the evidence of the doll and... No wait, that wouldn’t work, Rarity would have seen it by now. Or perhaps she could repair it, undoing the… no, that didn’t paint a pretty picture in her brain. A never-ending parade of thoughts rushed through her mind like a river heading for a waterfall of failure, trying to figure out how to fix what she had done. In the end, Sweetie Belle gave in to herself, letting her instincts take over her like she was a marionette. Her body worked on its own making her raise a trembling hoof and interrupted whatever Cheerilee was saying. “Ms. Cheerilee… Can I go home? I don’t feel so good.” Having heard that many times throughout her years of teaching, she gave her a look that had a mild hint of annoyance. “Now, Sweetie Belle, you need to be a little more convincing than just saying you’re sick.” The filly’s stomach suddenly decided that her breakfast would make a good substitute for desk cleaner, leaving her in a cold sweat, taking labored shaky breaths. “…like that, for example.” Cheerilee finished, “What’s the matter, do you have a temperature?” “No… No, no,” she put her head down on her vomit-covered desk and put her hooves on her head. “No, nono nono nono, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way.” The teacher’s curiosity grew wanting to home in on the source of the problem like a bee to a flower. “What wasn’t supposed to happen? Sweetie Belle, if there’s something you want to say, I’m listening.” She wanted to curl up under a rock in Tartarus and simply wither away, forgotten by the sands of time. What she did next might just grant her that wish. The filly slapped her hooves on her desk and blurted out, “Fine, I admit it! I’m the one who killed Diamond Tiara!” The silence that followed was like thunder after lightning, all eyes on her full of shock and disbelief. “Wha-What are you saying!?” Cheerilee said incredulously. “I don’t understand. I can’t see how… it couldn’t have been you. It’s not possible.” She stammered, finding it difficult to discuss the topic while trying to keep it foal friendly. “Oh yeah? Try telling that to my cutie mark.” Sweetie Belle spun around to display the mark on her flank, no longer caring about the way she looked, or the outcome of what she was doing would bring. She felt any punishment that would come out of it would be wholeheartedly deserved. Her cutie mark was a brown burlap pony doll that had button eyes with yarn for the mane, and what was thought to be a dried bit of paint was instead a heart on the chest. Although, what stuck out the most, was the pin that was hovering over the doll like it was some kind of pincushion. Cheerilee gave her an odd look, “Sweetie, I don’t see how a cutie mark has anything to do with…” It took a moment to register, but when she suddenly understood what she was looking at, she gasped. “It was an accident, I swear, I had no idea.” Sweetie Belle pleaded, her voice starting to crack as tears began rolling down her face. “Oh, Sweetie Belle, what have you done.” > Epilogue > -------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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.