sorry, power went out
>It has been a couple of months after the incident.
>The girl has been hospitalized in a mental institution and she's been treated since the suicide attempt.
>Her parents visit her every week to check on their younger daughter and they delude themselves thinking she's getting better.
>But the young girl hates being in this place.
>With the drugs, the constant surveillance of her every move and the experiments trying to make her better, the stress this young woman feels is almost unbareable.
>Once more, she feels violated, not physically but only mentally.
>Since the first time she was disgraced, every bad thing that she suffered after that was always associated with the event one way or another.
>This time, she felt like they were caressing her mind with long, slimey fingers, trying to find what was wrong with her.
>"Wasn't it obvious? He fucked my body and my mind" she thought.
>She never understood it, why were they asking her about her childhood when everything wrong happened because of her shitty sister and that monster?
>And what can they accomplish with these stupid questions? "Nothing", she thought.
>Words cannot heal her broken mind.
>Drugs can only stupefy it, they ease the pain but they mess with her in other ways.
>"Side effects" is a polite way of saying "the goal justifies the means".
>"As long as she's quiet, she's doing good, right?" One nurse said to another one outside of her room.
>This was one of the kinder expressions of incompetence and apathy the staff felt for their patients.
>Sadly, that attitude perverted everyone in this damn building.
>I guess a society controlled by a rotten head will rot itself.
>In this place, no one trusted anyone, girls would get beat up by other girls and the roots of everyone's illness would be used to bully the rest.
>When someone called our small child a "cock sucking whore" and she broke in tears, the staff drugged her, it's easier that way.
>On the first days of being hospitalized, when her parents visited for the first time, te girl asked.
>"Where's Rarity?" she asked, the last part of her being still hanging to the love that she once felt for her.
>"She will never come back, we promise." Her parents assured her.
>"I see. Is Applebloom ok?"
>Her parents looked at each other before finally saying "We should probably talk about that later, alright?"
>Once the visit hours ended, a nurse took the small Belle back to her room and gave her some pills.
>"You need to swallow them all, alright?"
>The girls has been in this place long enough to know that she hates them.
>"I don't want to."
>The nurse, used to this kind of behavior, knew what to do.
>She grabbed the child's hair and pulled it up.
>"Now listen up, love. I hate spoiled brats like you. So, you either do as we tell you or we'll have to discipline you."
>She let the small girl go and once again ordered, "swallow those damn pills."
>Sweetie, caressing her hair as if trying to calm the pain, decided to do exactly as told.
>"Good girl. Just do as told and you'll be out of here and sane as any normal person."
>Once the nurse left her room, Sweetie began to feel the effects of the drug.
>It was a calming yet opressive sensation.
>Her body didn't want to move and her mind, well the only word she could use to describe what was happening: it was getting numb.
>To a point where it felt like a dream what was happening to her.
>What her eyes saw didn't feel real, nor what her ears heard, almost as if she could leave her body at any time.
>Even if it was a relaxing sensation, she hated it with all of her soul.
>It was the exact feeling of when she got in the bathtub on that fateful night.
>The frustration of not being able to control her limbs at will or remembering what she was doing.
>It drove her crazy and depressed her at the same time.
I was personally fine with an open ending, but lets go ahead and see where this goes.
>Animals and humans have existed up to this point because they learn how to survive.
>After that first warning, she learned not to mess with the staff of her prison.
>They left her alone and she never got in any direct trouble with them.
>On the other hand, her "flat-mates" were a different story.
>I'm sure that you used to think that life in middle/high school was complicated when you were a student, but looking back at those years, you always had a place to run from the boredom, the idiots, the problems, the embarrassments, all of these typical for any teenager.
>But there's nowhere to run in this forsaken place.
>Imagine a middleschool that you had to live at, everyone knew everyone else was fucked up and worst of all tried to survived, together with a staff of workers that would rather see teenage girls kill each other than do their job.
>There was no privacy in this place, cameras all over the place watching everything we did, following us on every step.
>Which made it worse when our small child told the staff about the bullying problems and the only thing they said was "we'll look into it."
>Teenagers, even if they act like they don't actually think, are not stupid.
>Sweetie has seen the cameras all over the place and noticed them when the bigger girls kicked into submission a smaller one.
>They were looking directly into it, but nothing was done.
>Not even in her room was she safe from the ever seeing eyes of the staff, since there was a big window on her door, designed to see everything inside.
>She didn't even have the right for the most basic of needs, so prevalent in young teenagers.
>When the rumor broke out that another patient was releasing some drops of frustration, she nearly killed herself for what the other patients did to her in the subsequent weeks.
>The only place she was truly alone, away from this physical hell, was inside her mind.
>However, as you all know, thanks to the drugs, it was its own kind of hell.
>"How are you feeling today, Sweetie?" Greeted the psychiatrist.
>"A lot better, thank you."
>That was a complete lie.
>"That's great! Did you have fun with your parents yesterday?"
>"Yes, of course."
>She didn't. She could see under their smiles the cracks in their relationship represented by passive agressive comments and such.
>"Good. So, what did you talk about?"
>A lot of things were said. The hardest blow was learning that the Apples were moving away.
>Her parents denied that it was her fault, but deep down, Sweetie knew it better than anyone else.
>She bit the only kind soul that tried to heal her heart.
>By doing so, she spreaded the corruption that was inflicted into her.
>She also overheard her parents talking about how Rarity took control of her life once again.
>With the help of her friends, she got out of the deep hole she got into on the first place.
>"Good for her" Sweetie Belle thought at the time.
>"Anyway", the psychiatrist said "let's continue with the excercises."
>That night, like usual, she didn't go to sleep early.
>It was the only time she could be free from everything: her parents, they psychiatrist, the staff, the other patients and the drugs.
>In those precious minutes before sleeping, she wandered to many scenarios.
>She loved to play pretend games in her head.
>What if she didn't attack Applebloom? What if Rarity protected her? What if none of this happened? What if she became a singer like she always wanted to?
>This night, however, she was just imagining her sister.
>She's happy for her, right? She's not a drug addict anymore.
>Rarity has friends supporting her and they wouldn't leet her do any more mistakes.
>Her big sister, the one she admired the most, is doing fine once more.
>Then why is Sweetie crying?
>Why are you hugging your womb so hard, little girl?
>Why are you swearing and screaming in the middle of the night?
>The girl stood up, looking herself in her mirror and breaking it with her small fist.
>The voice of the small girl was heard throughout the entire facilty.
>Hundreds of thoughts ran in her head, but mainly.
>"Why is she happy?"
>"Why am I in this nuthouse while she has friends that care for her?"
>"What did I do? Who did I mess with to be here?"
>"Wasn't I just a small kid? I don't deserve this."
>"She's the one that deserves to be in this place, I did nothing wrong!"
>When the staff finally got in her room, she was crying, while hugging her legs in one of the corners.
>They didn't care tho, they grabbed her as if she was uncontrolable and injected her to "calm her down".
>After a while, the numbing feeling returned and once again she lost control of her body.
>When she woke up, she was restrained to her bed and a psychiatrist on her side.
>"What happened, Sweetie Belle?"
>"...Nothing" She answered.
>"Come on, I can't help you if you don't let me in." He turned around and pointed at the broken mirror "This is nothing."
>"... I had a, bad dream, that's all."
>Just remembering his face made her stomach revolt.
>"Interesting, tell me more."
>Interesting, as if she was some kind of animal doing a trick.
>She is a human being for god's sakes.
>After lying to the imbecile trying to "cure her", she finally called someone to release Sweetie Belle.
>"Is this legal?" Sweetie asked before a nurse got in.
>The psychiatrist didn't know how to answer.
>"It is, well, you know, a common procedure, yeah, that's right."
>"... Thought so..."
>"When did I become this bitter?" Sweetie thought to herself.
>Lying to a medical expert, being this cynical, hateing on her sister and openly insulting her.
>In the fake solitude of her room, her mind was plotting something and she didn't even realize it.
>Everytime she shows her pain, people think that there's something wrong with her.
>But when she does what she is told, then no one believes there's something wrong with her.
>"Maybe, I know how to get out of here."
One of these days im going to finish drawing the first damn post of this story. This one part took me fucking ages.
>"It's quite simple Sweetie Belle."
>She looked down, scared that he would judge her.
>Just couldn't stare down the fact that all that has happened is ruining her mind.
>Even then, she knew that there had to be a better way.
>"I think... I know what I must do..." she said.
>In the blink of an eye, Sweetie Belle went down on the psychiatrists pants.
>"Let me make you feel good."
>The psychologist hesitates, it had been a while since he had relations and now it was his chance.
>"My god, Sweetie Belle, you suck like a pro."
>She would only continue sucking the massive cock, so powerful and filled with stress.
>"I'll do anything to get out of here... "slurp"
>"Yes, Fran Bow, keep going!"
>"What!? Whose Fran Bow!?"
>The doctor looked at her face and scowled.
>"She was a previous patient that I handled. Speaking of leaving and wanting her aunt, too bad that cunt had to suck her way out, the little slut."
>Sweetie Belle frowned at the information. How could she have not noticed the semen shooting into her eye.
>"Ahhh, yes Sweetie, thank you, my wife is an annoying bitch."
>Sweetie Belle looked at the doctor with sparkles in her eyes.
>"So I can go now?" she said gleefully.
>The psychiatrist massaged his chinny chin chin.
Are you saying the other one is a big fat phoney
You're a big fat phoney
OH GOD IT'S BEING CONTINUED
>That night, the memories of the past run on her head like an old VHS being rewinded.
>She was looking for answers that could help her right now.
>When that monster raped her, when did she suffer the least?
>"When I did what he order."
>After he was sent into jail, when did she suffer the most?
>"When I showed my vulnerability, when I cried, when I wanted to Applebloom to be with me, but messed it up."
>She was finding the answers.
>If she acted like nothing happened and didn't molest Applebloom, she would still be friends with her.
>"Be normal and follow orders, do what I have to do."
>That's why that nurse didn't beat her up again, she followed her orders.
>When she didn't act normal, when she lost control the night before, everyone assumed she was a lot crazier.
>"But if I don't do anything, they will ignore me. If I follow orders and act like normal, they will think I'm getting cured."
>Sweetie laughed at this idea. She knew there was no way of getting cured.
>Not after what she suffered and what she did.
>There is no way they can extract the feelings of guilt, hate, anger and such with drugs or a scalpel.
>Those experiences, they are Sweetie Belle, they're molding her.
>It's like building a tower of many different materials and trying to remove some blocks of it while still building it.
>You can't, they are part of you forever and they will shape you.
>It's sad that a young girl like her has to understand things like this at her age.
>But if she wanted to leave this madhouse, she had to pretend she was getting better.
>Just follow the exams and lie. Say that you're feeling better while having a smile on the face.
>She got up and got close to the window, since her mirror was gone.
>She tried to smile for the first time in months.
>After a while of practicing, it looked a little but more natural.
>She used to perform at her school, so she was used at practicing a nice smile for the audience.
Nigger, that first story is a fukken masterpiece of writing.
I absolutely adored it, and the ending was completely fine.
I finished it believing Sweet Sweetie was finally at peace.
I totally dig darkly-bittersweet stuff like this. Fucked up realities--stories, if you will.
Tho, I don't mind you starting this new story. I'm happy to see where this goes as well.
also, sauce on the Stare.png image in the original cap?
Are you writing from experiance or something cause
I know the feel of being locked up in a place like that
I rather not say if I was or I wasn't, or if I'm male or female. I think there are some things you shouldn't share on the interent.
However it's possible that this may be based on real events that may've happened at some point in time.
You might not need this, but I do.
>Sweetie was a patient girl.
>She learned how to be patient little woman whenever she visited Rarity.
>So, she followed the orders of the nurses.
>Whenever one of the psychiatrists asked her questions, she answered with a big smile, pretending to get better.
>With the bigger girls, she just stepped aside.
>Together with her parents, she smiled and said she was feeling better every day.
>What did you know? In the end, everyone was happy, they treated her better.
>Hiding her emotions, supressing her traumas just so that they wouldn't make a big deal out of it.
>So that they would let her out of this place.
>After four weeks of pretending, they finally let the girl out, on a strict medication routine.
>Finally, she was home.
>And she hated it.
>She couldn't understand exactly why, but everything in her room disgusted her.
>It was like being in the room of someone very dislikeable.
>She slowly walked toward her mirror and smiled.
>The smile she practiced so much in front of the window.
>A beautiful, ear to ear grin.
>Every element of that smile showed nothing but love for life.
>But her eyes.
>Those eyes that were described in the old wars as the hundred yard stare.
>At first, the girl was scared that people would notice it since it was so obvious.
>However, they didn't seem to notice.
>"Or maybe, they're like me."
>Yeah, maybe they lied like her.
>As long as they act like everything was fine, then everything would be fine.
>Maybe, just maybe, if she keeps pushing down everything down into herself, as deep as her mind can take, then she would be cured.
>She knew that it would pop out of her head one way or another.
>But, as long as she could keep it to herself, then she could be able to handle it.
>She turned around and looked at her room again. Even if she hated it, she couldn't break or change it, it would look suspicious.
>She'd have to deal with it.
>Then she turned to see herself once more in the mirror and saw something strange running down.
This whole story is too real for me, yet I can't get enough...
Better make it a good ending
We both know the real world doesn't usually go that way.
Oh god, why didn't she just die?
i'm dying here. someone send help
>It didn't take long for Sweetie to return to her school.
>After some special courses to put her on the same level as her classmates, she once again became the best student on her class.
>She now has a lot more friends than before, when she only played with Scootaloo and Sweetie Belle.
>All the teachers, aware of what happened to her, are glad to see such a promising little girl be alright once more.
>Her parents are now happy once again.
>Sweetie Belle made sure they wouldn't be fighting by trying to spend time with them and listening to their problems.
>What a nice little girl she became.
>And her medicine. Well, she's not taking it.
>She only throws it away into the toilet and pretends to swallow the pills.
>Her teachers and classmates asked her to sing once again, but she doesn't want to.
>Says she doesn't find it fun anymore.
>This is not a lie.
>However, it's hard to explain that the constant beat of the songs reminded her of how that monster thrusted into her over and over again.
>If only he didn't like to hear her sing just before he stained her small, delicate body.
>And her new friends? She did try to become their friends, but for some reason she found them annoying.
>Why the hell are they so happy? They are so noisy.
>But she never said that, of course. She always laughed when they laughed and smiled when they did.
>Speaking of friendships, Scootaloo was now a solitary girl.
>Her two best friends dissapeared on the same day and no one bothered to give her a reason.
>She only heard that Applebloom moved away and that Sweetie was in the hospital.
>They didn't explain her why wasn't she allow to visit her.
>When she returned to school, she was happy to see her again but.
>Her eyes scared her.
>Sweetie Belle greeted her with a big smile and while waving her hand.
>Scootaloo tried to get over that horrible sensation.
>But whenever she looked at her in the eyes, it was like she could look through her.
>Eventually, they just drifted apart.
>sweetie is "normal" again
this is gonna get worst, i'm sure, but a part of me tells me i have faith in her
>Sweetie Belle was indeed sad about Scootaloo.
>But she thought that, as long as she was away from her, the deepest emotions wouldn't come out.
>It was hard, but as long as they were apart, it would be for the best for both of them.
>She hated the other kids, those spastic and happy idiots running around and having crushes on each other.
>There were times where she wanted to walk away from them, but it would look very suspicious.
>So she just sat there and smiled, like she practiced.
>She also hated her parents.
>Those persons that threw her into the nut house because they weren't able to take care of her or deal with her traumas.
>A place where she suffered for almost two months, and for what?
>They didn't heal her at all.
>Instead, she feels like her mind is slowly untying itself.
>Day by day, the sensation of threads drifting apart from her soul and dissapearing, like worms hiding in the dirt made her want to rip her hair off.
>But when she's with other people, she has to be cool, stay calm.
>Act like a little maiden.
>When she's alone, then she can worry about trying to dig those emotions that constantly try to come out.
>Which is pretty hard, since she's constantly overproctected by all the adults on her life.
>Her parents never leave her alone and always pick her up on school.
>The teachers pay special attention to her than to the other kids.
>And because she is a very pretty girl, everyone at her class is constantly bothering her by chatting and such.
>The only time she is truly alone, just like when she was in the hospital, was right before sleeping.
>Now, instead of using that time to release some stress, she is using to suppress the emotions.
>Rarity, Blueblood, Applebloom, the nurses, herself, for different reasons.
>But she hated herslef more than anyone else.
>She could explain why, but if there was one person she wanted to kill more than Rarity, more than Blueblood, was herself.
>Eventually, those emotions began to come out in very subtle ways.
>At one point, when she was in the middle of a group of pubescent kids, the normal phallic jokes began to pop out.
>Nothing out of the ordinary, just things that kids that age do.
>Sweetie Belle was about to break in tears, but the only thing she showed was a chill, and excused herself.
>Thankfully, everyone thought that she was only feeling uncomfortable by the chat.
>If only they knew.
>To control this, she found other valves to release the pain.
>One of them was carrying a small notebook with herself where she could drain some of the constant filth her mind was pumping everyday.
>Poems of hate, disturbing drawings, wishes and plans on what to do with Rarity, thoughts of wanting to kill herself.
>All of them hiding in a cute and pink diary.
>It wasn't enough.
>She asked her mother to take her to the mall to buy some new clothes, supposedly because she had a crush and wanted to look pretty.
>But she only chose long sleeve blouses and shirts.
>She was annoyed because her mom bought her some cute skirts too. She didn't want to show any kind of skin to other people.
>Yet, she thanked her mother with a smile.
>She became a manipulative little girl, being able to make everyone she wanted to believe she was fine.
>From that day onwards, she wore the long sleeve blouses everyday, no mattering how hot or cold the day was.
>It was satisfying for her.
>The physical pain was unbareable, but the concept of punishing herself with such humiliating and terrible wounds was extremely pleasant.
>From once a week to once a day, her arms became a battlefield of dark emotions.
>But it wasn't enough.
>At some point, her parents finally trusted her to walk back home by herself, an opportunity that she used to roam the parks surrounding her neighborhood.
>She brought with her a small bag of nuts, to feed the squirrels.
>Or rather, to use it as bait.
I've been reading this... new to all of this, I couldn't stop. All of this... all of it reminds me of so many things... the touching, the fucking up with a friend I used to have... the "nuthouse" it's like... I'm reading what I did. But I can't stop. It hurts but... I just can't stop. I can't stop crying... please continue...
I feel like I need this... it relieves the pain somehow...
Noone should have to go through this what... she had to...
>After that, she was able to control herself a lot better around people.
>The valves worked like a charm, and she could hide the traumas rather well, as long as she had privacy, she could act like she was cured.
>But they didn't relieve the pain.
>More like valves these, "activities", were like infected knives opening wounds and letting the filth out.
>The messed her mind more and more, even when she thought they were helping her.
>However, as long as she could act normally, she thought, then everything will be fine.
>And then, one fateful and rainy afternoon, everything fell apart.
>Sweetie Belle was walking home alone.
>The stress of hiding everything back was enormous and the girl didn't notice it yet.
>Just as she walked at the side of the park, she decided to look for another squirrel.
>Sweetie took out the bag with nuts, and got near to one of the little animals.
>She took a liking of stepping on their necks and slowy putting more and more weight until she felt the disgusting crack of her bones.
>This time it was no different. She guided the squirrel into some bushes and just as it was going to grab the nut, she let her bag fall on the animal, stunning it enough for her to put her foot on it.
>For her, the animal was like a big roach, twitching all of her limbs, desperatly trying to get out, she could not stand it.
>She began to slowly kill the animal, like she did many times before.
>A fake feeling of purification got over her body as the mad and violent cries of the animal grew and grew.
>For such a small creature, it made so much noise.
>"Would you shut up and die already?" Sweetie Belle said.
>"What... did you just say?" A voice behind her spoke.
>Sweetie Belle's heart skipped a beat. She was so fixed into torturing the small creature that she forgot, for the first time since she started doing this, to check out her surrouding.
>As she turned around, she began to breath heavily when she noticed who was the young woman talking to her.
It seems like the author is writing from experience. Either that or they have extreme empathy towards someone in their life that this has happened to. At least that's what I, as someone who never went through this shit can say.
I don't know why this story compels me so. I know its fantasizing but still absolutely nobody, not even fictional characters should be subjected to what's been happening to poor Sweetie, and from the sounds of it you too, anon.
I don't know if you're ever going to be perfectly fine again but I hope you can at least have a happier life in the future. There's always ponies.
Ponies were my escape in a colorful world when shit went down, letting me ignore all these memories for a while... I won't be able to see sweetie Belle normal ever again... not that I would ever be normal again... I don't go out.. always needing someone to "escort" me to buy food... I feel pathetic...
>It seems like the author is writing from experience.
Right? Coming from somebody who went through this, everything except animal torture happened although I did think about doing it.
Yeah... I know that... I remember hitting my cat when I was young out of frustration because I couldn't find anything better... I needed something weaker...and when I realised what I did... I changed a lot. I got so distant from everything. I hid from males ... I hated them... until a woman, years later, did bad things to me as well... that's when I just started to despite all humans... their judging looks over me. The harsh whispering behind my back... in school the abuse until I snapped and got thrown into that "nuthouse" I was confused and scared first, not sure why I was there in the first place... until I puzzled everything together. Piece by piece I knew I became a monster from a monster... I wasn't better than them. I still struggle with those thoughts. And suicidal thoughts are always along my side... as well with the bipersonal disorder...
Fuck man uhh I didn't think you'd respond with that...
I wish I could say something to make you feel better but i'm sure you heard it all before but i'll try something I would like to hear
I hope you die a quick painless death soonand I love you f-faggot
Thanks dear... I appreciate it anyway. I'm trying to be good now. Things... just sometimes don't go well as I hope to... I have someone who takes care of me
fornow... I'll be okay until I'm alone again... I think...
I really want to know how sweetie Belle turns out though...
I'd like to imagine a good ending just to pretend I could have the same...
>Fluttershy, one of her sister's friends was behind her, carrying an umbrella, most likely taking a walk through the park.
>She was looking at her with wide open eyes, still not processing what the girl said.
>But what broke Fluttershy from her shock, were the cries of the small creature.
>"S-Sweetie Belle! What are you doing?"
>The girl, surprised by the young woman, lost her balance and stepped on the squirrel with all of her weight, killing it instantly.
>Her breathing became faster, more erratic.
>"W-why would you do that... You're..."
>The girl, trying to understand the surreal situation she was going through right now, could only react the way she has been doing it for the past couple of months.
>With a big, practiced smile.
>"N-nothing Fluttershy, I was just... just..."
>But it was useless, the stress suddenly broke out and there wasn't anything she could do to hold everything back.
>While she tried to talk her way out of this situation, she began to sweat, tremble, her eyes began to shake in desperation, looking for a way out and random tears popped from her eyes.
>Her feet began fidgeting and she began to play with her sleeves, pulling it up and down without noticing it.
>And from the corner of her eye, Sweetie could swear she saw Rarity walking down the street.
>Wether it was true or not, didn't matter, everything bottled down finally exploded.
>She began to shake disturbingly hard.
>The words weren't coming out, she was asphyxiating with her own tongue, while all the memories of Rarity and Blueblood rushed down and hit her mind like a brick.
>Fluttershy, not knowing what to do, tried to grab the girl's shoulder.
>But in the middle of her nervous breakdown, Sweetie broke.
>"No! Don't touch me! Please, I don't want to do it again, Rarity!"
>Fluttershy took a step back, scared of what was happening to the little girl.
>"Leave me alone, get away, get away!"
>Feeling like she was being crushed by walls, Sweetie began to run back home.
>I wish I could say something to make you feel better but i'm sure you heard it all before
Hearing someone's bad lot in life always got to me because I've lived pretty cushy and spoiled and no matter how much I really hated it for them, I could never really relate to hard shit, nor have anything useful for them.
I for my part appreciate the good to let some color in a dark and grey world...even if it's just a bit. I was never jealous of others who had it better than me. I was happy they don't experience what I did. It made me happy.
even if I keep asking myself why it had to be me...
OH SHT IT'S HAPPENING
pls be good ending
>After a while with all of her emotions leaking out of her mind and blinding her reason, Sweetie turned around her head to see if she was being followed.
>Fluttershy was running behind her, trying to catch up to the young girl.
>Luckily, she wasn't the most athletic girl so she would never be able to catch her.
>In her desperation and delirium, Sweetie cried.
>"No Rarity, I don't want to do it, don't make me do it anymore!"
>"What are you talking about, Sweetie?" Fluttershy answered, already huffing and puffing.
>After two more blocks, Fluttershy decided to stop, this wasn't going to work, she had to think of another way.
>Sweetie Belle got into her house crying and completely drenched.
>Her parents weren't at home so she had to open the door with her own keys.
>Once inside, she looked into the window to see if Fluttershy was following her, but there was no one else on the street.
>But that didn't calm the littler girl down.
>Like the old days, she felt dirty.
>Still suffering from an intense nervous breakdown, she ran into her bathroom and closed the door.
>Pulling her sleeves up, she grabbed her razor and made some deep, long cuts on her arms, trying to relieve the stress.
>"I'll be a good girl, Rarity, don't take me with him again." She repeated again and again.
>But the physical pain did not withered the feeling of her mind untying once more.
>On this state, she didn't even notice she was bleeding, so instead of trying to cure the wounds or clean the blood, she pushed down the sleeves, staining them with a deep crimson color.
>As she tried to hold the sink with her hands, trying to calm herself a little bit, she looked at her reflection on the mirror.
>She was a complete mess. Drenched on rainwater, still violently trembling, her subtle mascara runnind down her cheeks.
>So she tried to smile to improve her image.
>Her eyes still moving erratically looking for someone in the shadows chasing her.
>And then she saw a silhouette behind her.
I know this is easier said than done, but perhaps you should look into doing social work if you're able to stabilize yourself. I'd think that more than medicine, what kids who have gone through such things really need is someone who actually understands and isn't just claiming they do to try and make them feel better. If you could change at least one life for the better you'll have accomplished something more meaningful than most of us ever will.
Also, was the cat okay? Sorry, I love cats, and the thought of people abusing them really gets to me.
I'm sorry darling, I'm ever so certain I don't speak that ghastly taco-language of yours.
Yeah, my cat is okay. He's already dead though since 2004... he got sick. I never touched an animal badly ever again, living now with my rats alone without much human contact. There are only a few people that I let inside. Mostly I'm on the Internet drawing ponies and watching people having fun outside. I'd like to have some people to talk to. They don't need to understand me, it's really hard to understand me at all anyways so that's okay... I don't mind giving out my Skype or
tumblreither... a friendly voice to talk to is sometimes all I need... and I love to play video games anyway. especially zombie survival shit...
>From the reflection of the mirror, she noticed a human shaped shadow standing behind her.
>She quickly turned back, her disturbed mind assuming Blueblood was going to defile her body once more.
>But there was no one behind.
>Her breathing became heavier and faster.
>There was someone behind her, she was sure of it.
>Never being this scared before, she faced the sink once more and threw up in it a couple of times.
>When she finally stopped coughing, she looked on the mirror, trying to remember where she spotted the figure.
>With her eyes quickly shifting back and forth and her knees, almost giving up, the only thing she did was shout in a very quiet voice.
>The anxiety was destroying this young lady, her mind collapsing on itself.
>She stayed quiet for a couple of seconds, the only sound throughout the house was her heavy breathing.
>And then, she heard a whisper.
>The girl didn't know where the words came from.
>However, the only thing she could do was scream.
>"No! Not again!"
>Then she run out of the bathroom, into the hallway and to the main entrance, banging the door as if she could feel the breathing of a demon right on her neck.
>When she finally opened the door, two silhouettes, one female and one male, were standing on the door.
>The girl, fell down on her back, trying to slowly get away.
>"Hey! What's wrong!"
>And then she broke into the most bitter and loud crying.
>Curling in a fetal position, screaming out of her lungs and helplessly moving her arms and legs, the girl tried to protect herself from her attackers.
>In reality, it was Fluttershy and a policeman she found that immediately helped a cute, frighten young woman.
>They tried to pick her up but she answered by pulling her limbs to herself violently and covering her ears and eyes with her hands.
>That is until they noticed the blood staining her sleeves.
>Not knowing what to do, the police was about to call for backup when a car drove into the garage.
>It was an uncomfortable scene to say the least.
>When Sweetie Belle's parents ran out of her car to see what was going on, they were horrified of what her daughter was doing and how she looked.
>In the confusion, they struggled with the policeman and Fluttershy.
>And when the young girl heard the sound of her parents' voices, she regained a little bit of consciousness.
>However, not rationality.
>She slowly stood up, trying to clean her face with her bloody sleeves.
>Her mind trying to control the situation like she always did in the past months.
>"H-hi, mom, dad. I know this looks bad but, I can explain you what happened back at home."
>Her dad, trying to process this strange situation, was only able to babble "...but you are home..."
>The girl, looking a little confused tried to answer.
>"What? This is Rarity's house. Look, she is over... there..."
>And she finally noticed that the young woman standing over there wasn't Rarity and the man wasn't Blueblood.
>Reality suddenly hit her like a truck, when the delirium slowly drained away from her eyes.
>"I... see. Well, I'm going to my room, I'm very tired..."
>"Where do you think you're going?" Her mother yelled, holding her wrist.
>In the midst of all the confusion, she didn't notice her sleeves, until the girl yelped in pain when she grabbed the wound.
>"Why are you covered in blood?!" She screamed.
>Sweetie Belle suddenly struggled to get free, but the woman overpowered her and pulled up the sleeve, to reveal dozens of old a new scars across her delicate arm.
>Her mother gasped, and Sweetie, embarrassed and humiliated, pulled her arm so hard that she lost her balance and dropped her schoolbag.
>Oh cruel destiny, if that wasn't enough, her pink notebook, the diary she kept where she could pour her disturbed psyche, fell down and opened itself right in the middle, for everyone else to see.
>How did this happen? How did everything fall apart so fast?
>Like a small toddler that was caught doing something wrong, she just took a step back, looked down on the floor and fidgeted with her feet and hands.
>The realization that her daughter was messed up in the inside was something they never expected to discover.
>While the adults tried to discuss what was going on, Sweetie Belle was softly crying.
>Everything she worked for until this point crash landed in the most horrible way.
>They sent Sweetie Belle to her room so that they could discuss things with the police.
>Fluttershy offered herself to take her, something the parents thanked.
>On the room, she cleaned and cured Sweetie's arms with some bandages she found on the house.
>"How are you feeling, Sweetie?"
>But the girl kept sobbing and sobbing.
>Fluttershy tried to caress the young girl, but she moved away, sitting on the corner of her room.
>This was the most uncomfortable situation the woman has ever faced.
>She was alone with a deeply disturbed girl, she didn't know what to do and was scared.
>The only thing she could do was sit on the floor with the girl, but on a safe distance, so she wouldn't make her nervous.
>"Like a small, frighten animal" she thought.
>After a couple of hours sitting there, the door suddenly opened, and Sweetie began to breath faster once more.
>It was her parents, they both had a look of dissapointment.
>They had decided that, the best course of action was for Sweetie Belle to leave this place for a while.
>"The, mental hospital again?" She whispered.
>"No", the father answered. They explained to her that the best thing to do was for her to live with her grandparents for a while.
>They made it sound like it was for her own good, leaving everything behind and start anew.
>But Sweetie Belle was a lot more mature than they thought thanks to what she've gone through.
>She immediately understood that this was more for them than her.
>They couldn't handle the problem, so they rather send it away.
>After a while, Fluttershy said goodbye to the family.
>Knowing what was happening with Sweetie Belle, she decided it wouldn't be a good idea to tell them what happened with the squirrel.
>Not like Sweetie felt like she was doing her a favor.
>The girl knew that this woman ruined her life by not shutting up.
>The police understood the situation when he remembered the case of the little girl and the molester a couple of months ago and decided this little incident could be handled by the parents if what they said of sending her away was true.
>But he said he was going to watch over them very closely.
>When everyone was gone, the preparations to send her away started immediately.
>It took them less than two weeks to prepare everything.
>They weren't even trying to be subtle about her wanting to be gone.
>The trip to the bus station was nothing but a big uncomfortable silence.
>They bought the little girl her bus ticket and took her to the number 12 door.
>"This is it, Sweetie." Her mother said "Now remember to call us when you arrive with your grandma, alright?"
>The girl nodded.
>Now, normally parents wait to see their children get on the bus, but, to be honest, these pair were disgusted by their two daughters.
>They said they had some very urgent business to attend and weren't able to stay for long.
>They said good bye, told the girl they loved her and then walked away.
>It's sad to think that these two, once loving parents, now couldn't stand seeing her younger daughter.
>But it's alright, Sweetie Belle thought "I hate them too".
>Sitting on the bench alone, with her ticket on her hand she looked around, trying to fight the boredom and moody atmosphere surrounding her.
>And then, she saw her.
>At the background, standing still, looking right at the young girl, there was a woman, stylishly dressed with a small smile.
>Sweetie Belle recognized her immediately.
>Sweetie Belle stared at Rarity for a couple of seconds.
>Her dead eyes trying to understand what they were seeing.
>Was this another product of her broken mind?
>An illusion to punish her even more?
>Or was it her real sister?
>If so, why did she come? Doesn she realize what she made her suffer?
>What, is she asking for forgiveness?
>None of the two figures moved.
>The ghostly figured kept staring at the unresponsive girl.
>People waiting to attend their destination walked around the station, a deep contrast to these two beautiful statues, full of cracks on the inside.
>The unresponsive girl, stared and stared at the younger woman, her empty eyes still wondering about the nature of this appearence.
>For a moment, Sweetie had the strange sensation that, if she walked straight into her, both of them would dissapear, never to be found again.
>Maybe that'd be for the best. Nothing in this world seemed to matter anymore.
>Rarity, her dear sister.
>The one that loved her so much.
>And the one that sold her body for her own interests.
>But then, something on her expression changed.
>Her quiet and tranquil expression did not, but the eyes of the young pubescent girl transformed.
>In a fraction of a second, feelings of sadness, pain, anger, fear and hate were reflected on them.
>So much hate.
>The scariest glare a young girl ever had, a 100 yard stare combined with the purest hate were burning the figure across the room.
>Rarity's expression changed, into the purest form of horror, as if she realized what she lost, and like a shadow being lighten up by a light, she dissapeared behind a wall of people.
>The stare of the girl returned once more to that of an empty person.
>At that moment, the alarm announcing the arrival of the 12° bus rang.
>After that, Sweetie grabbed all her bags, and walked to the door, ready to board this boat.
>And hopefully, navigate until her pain and traumas become nothing more than salt statues in her past.
I hope so much that this is not from your personal experience that part with the parents i mean
I would love to see sweetie and rarity reunite but thats not something you can forgive like a broken bone this poor little thing just got rekt
Thanks a lot for everyone reading my story. It was hard to write it for a couple of different reasons but I hope you enjoyed it. If I have to choose a title for it, it would be
>>Suffering and innocence are two sides of the same coin.
And for those that identify themselves with it, there's not much I can say to you but, I hope everyting works out on the end. Blessings nor wishing good luck helps, but there are people that can listen to your stories and understand what you've gone through.
As always please critize and tell me what you thought of the story. You can also ask questions about it if you want.
Thanks a lot.
now i just can hear Don't Come Close
bravo Faggot13, i knew it would end bad, but at least she's alive.
the only worst thing is, i know it won't be that way for too long
It was great it wasn't as long as i hoped it would but you nailed it pretty much, it doesn't feel rushed or clumsy you layed the emotionas and psychial problems out for us to understand in the best possible way
Thanks again for your great green anon
I hope you'll do fine in your life my friend
The first story was already excellent, this to me was an unexpected surprise. Thanks for the wild ride. Can I ask what inspired you to write this story all those years ago? Was it that picture in your OP OP?
If i ever draw more comic pages or scenes from this story do you have any names i can tag it with so you'll be notified? Hope you dont mind they'll be in pony form not human form.
It was indeed the pic that made me want to write the story, something about the desperate way Rarity was looking at Sweetie Belle and the anger the little one felt at her, made me want to write something about it.
Well, I guess you can tag them with Faggot13 and of course I wouldn't mind if you did it. It's amazing that someone wants to draw something I wrote.
>It was all her fault.
>The reason she was so messed up.
>Why her parents hated her.
>Why she couldn't feel anymore
>Why she lost... Applebloom.
>Sweetie Belle sat down in the seat all the way back in the bus.
>The bus was about to close its doors as she heard her scream.
>"Wait, Stop the bus!" Rarity’s voice rushed through the Bus to Sweetie Belle.
>The horrible thoughts went back into the little girls head.
>"No no no no, don't let her in." Sweetie thought.
>Too late, Rarity already stormed towards her.
>"Sweetie Belle! Darling, I'm so sorry about everything. I heard what happened."
>As much as she wanted to scream and throw up from her memories, she couldn't make a sound.
>She was paralyzed for this moment.
>"Please..." Rarity begged, tears in her eyes. "Let me make this right... there will never be a man between us ever again..."
>Sweetie still couldn't make a sound.
>Tears welled up in her eyes.
>This hate, this burning hate she had for her sister.
>It used to be love.
>She used to care.
>No, she doesn't anymore.
>She's a monster.
>Just like him...
>"Let's go home..." Rarity said, softly reaching to Sweetie's hand.
>She didn't fight it anymore...
>At this point, she stopped caring.
>Both girls left the bus and walked towards the boutique.
>It was a silent walk and very calm this evening.
>Arriving at the Boutique, Rarity turned to her little sister once more.
>"Now, it may not look as it was before but... I've made some changes. Maybe you enjoy it too."
>She unlocked the front door and slowly opened it.
>Such a clean smell and so sweet. It was completely different from what she had before.
>Rarity walked in looking back at Sweetie Belle.
>Her head was still lowered.
>"What do you think little sister? Would you like to see your room? I've designed it myself."
>Usually this was something Sweetie liked to hear.
>She remembered the dresses and Dolls that Rarity made for her before. All so glamorous and fancy.
>Now she could stop the tears. The good memories were stronger than the bad memories.
>"Don't you like it, Sweetie Belle?"
>Sweetie Belle looked up and fell to her knees crying.
>"I missed you so much..." The young teen cried out.
>Rarity stopped for a moment before kneeling down to her, closing her in her arms.
>"I missed you too... you are everything to me." She softly said as Rarity's tears slowly smudged her mascara.
>"Come in... I will make you some hot chocolate and then everything will be better again... I Pinkie promise."
No just no
I would love to read an happy ending but there won't be one there are no words to heal wounds this deep
If you want to have an happyend try death, death for rarity and sweetie
i know it's over, but something tells me this shit must be witnessed