Babysitting Is a Chore
Octavia held her autumn-brown cello like a lover, gliding along the cello with her rag ever so gently, catching every particle of dust that clung itself to her old friend. She then repeated her long strokes along its side several more times before she leaned back in her chair, giving a satisfactory smile as she looked over her work.
Content with her job, she tossed the dusty rag in a partially-filled bin that sat in the corner of the room. Getting up, she gently leaned the cello against the wall, causing it to make a slight creaking sound that disturbed the silence. She got up from her chair and walked towards the bin. As she approached the it, she caught a whiff of a horrible odor from the bin. Wincing a bit at the smell, she reluctantly grabbed the bin with her mouth and proceeded out of the room. The grimy dirt and dust mixing in her mouth made her stomach queasy. As she made her exit, she took a moment and paused at the door, taking in a quick glance at the room.
The walls were painted with a swirling black-and-white pattern, showing a series of interlocked circles. Some ponies thought it was too “busy”, but she liked it Staring at the pattern until you lost yourself in it was a great way to clear your mind, and Octavia’s mind seemed to need a lot of clearing these days. The kitchen area, off to her right, came complete with a minibar set into a Victorian-style cabinet made of dark, heavy wood with a slight purple tint to the finish, bearing an assortment of fine wines and elegant crystal wineglasses stacked on its shelves.
The room was filled with various pieces of elegant furniture. The kind of furniture that would fit for royalty. Octavia's instruments lay against the wall to the left beside a small round dresser with clothes that hung on its edge, ready to fall off. On top of the dresser, a picture of her family stood. The picture, like her instruments had gathered some dust on it, she would have to remind herself to give that a polishing later on. The picture was of Octavia back when she was a filly. The grey filly was in the middle of the framed photo, smiling with her mom; a purple and gray mare. The photo had always seemed empty to Octavia however, due to the fact that her dad was not present in it. Her father had to attend a wedding in Canterlot at the time of the picture. Continuing her glance around the room, her gaze fell on to her bed. Her bed was as always, pristine and neat. The colors of the sheets were purple and white, matching to curvature of the bars shelf. Rarity would die for the sheets as fabrics to her design.
She dropped her basket relieved that the taste was out and opened the door, kicking the basket out. A gentle breeze blew past her, carrying the smell of shampoo and hair products. Having to live right next to the local spa, Octavia would constantly be bombarded with various smells that would overpower her nostrils almost daily. Oh, how she despised it.
The spa had the windows open 24/7 so they could bring in the ''fresh air'' as they so often quoted to her. The horrid odor of hairspray that seemed to be used every five minutes lingered in the air, with just the slightest hint of fresh flowers which happened to be the only relief to it. The grass was neatly trimmed, and the flowers were beginning to bloom in their pots on the side of Octavia's house, signifying spring's arrival.
Compared to Canterlot, Ponyville was small - but surprisingly difficult to get around in, at least for Octavia. In Canterlot, she could always rely on the street signs to tell her where she was and where to go; but in Ponyville, signs were fewer and further between. The locals just seemed to assume if you lived there, you already knew where everything was. Octavia found herself getting lost very easily.
The day was quite typical for this time of year. Spring time was always such a beautiful time in Ponyville. The birds chirped and flowers bloomed among the hills, plains and fields; Ponies were out playing and talking, and several merchants were setting up their stalls in the marketplace, preparing to sell their wares to anypony who passed by.
Octavia had only just moved to Ponyville a month ago; and to her, all of these new ponies seemed to have no manners whatsoever, at least as far as she could tell. They weren't very poised in any sense of the word, either. She had barely even set foot in the place before some bubblegum-pink earth pony had popped up out of nowhere and begun to speak absolute gibberish to her, then just started singing for no reason Octavia had ever been able to figure out. To this day, she had no idea what the pink pony had actually said to her - and didn't really want to know.
It wasn't that she didn't appreciate the nice gesture of the crazy ponies party, its just that she had always been a reserved mare. Even more so being in a new environment, having to relearn all the new customs that came along with her move from big-city Canterlot to a smaller, laid-back town like Ponyville, from their crazy dances and lacking posture to their unrefined sense of fashion and music.
The constant vibe she received from the townsfolk was generally a negative one. On the whole, Octavia’s impression of the townsfolk was generally negative. Not that anypony had done anything specific to earn that feeling from her, it was just that the whole experience was so different from what she was used to. New beginnings, and change - and Octavia had never been comfortable with change.
Continuing on, Octavia looked down and lunged to her basket. Picking it up with her mouth, she silently cursed it's the taste. With basket in mouth, Octavia proceeded to stroll down to the other side of her house. Once on the other side of her rustic house, she trotted towards a wooden basket that had started to overflow. Trickles of the clear blue liquid traced down it's wooden sides on the lush grass below. She dropped the basket next to the bucket, letting it slam on the ground hoping clothes did not fall out of it.
Octavia heard some flapping heading towards her and looked up; Derpy Hooves was swarming around, carrying her baggage of mail she had the duty of delivering each day. Landing on the ground with a bit of a skid next to Octavia's mailbox, she flung open the metal contraption and slid her daily mail inside.
Octavia smiled at her good friend relieved that she had not harmed anything or herself today. Although Octavia did not happen to look many of Ponyvilles residents, Derpy was one of the exceptions. Her upbeat and quirky attitude always put Octavia in a good mood whenever the two would meet to chat. Allowing the two to quickly become close friends.
She looked down at the basket that contained her clothes. Much to her surprise none of them had spilled out, she gently kicked over the basket and went to the other side facing the clothes.
The bright afternoon sun shone in her eyes it reflected off the water, forcing her to cover her eyes to shield herself from the glare until they adjusted to it. As she lowered her hoof, the once-blinding glare became a swirl of colors that could be seen within the water, all the hues of the rainbow dancing within the clear liquid in a mystifying manner that entranced her for only a brief moment.
Octavia bent down, picking up the blue cotton sweater that she had owned since she was a filly. Every stitching, a reminder of the love and effort her mother had put into making it. The cotton fibers stuck out of the fabric, tickling the insides of her mouth as she grabbed it. Gently, Octavia lowered the article of clothing in the water ensuring not to cause any kind of splash. Turning back around to her clothes, she grabbed a yellow and white dress that seemed to shimmer in the suns light, even past through the dirt that had gathered on it. If the dress was in it's pristine state, Octavia felt sure that Rarity would of simply faint at the sheer gorgeousness of this dress. After she had finished putting all her clothes in the basket she turned back around, grabbing the now-empty basket with her mouth once more.
Giving a quick glance back at the clothes that had now begun to soak, Octavia started to stroll back into her home; humming her favorite tune along the way.
The walls of her house were painted black as the night sky. At each wall there was a window was mirrored on the side. Her roof was a triangle that had modern day paintings of musical instruments, all painted grey. She loved the sight of the paintings of her roof, a gift from Vinyl for her birthday last month.
Octavia walked back inside, slowly moving towards down the hallway leading to the bathroom. The bathrooms walls had a glossy-white Victorian floor that sparkled seemed to sparkle as the sun. A mural of instruments - saxophones, clarinets, and violins, painted in black - were plastered throughout its walls.
The rack that held the towels had gold handle bars that were neatly sliced and shaped to like birds. Her sink was massive piece. The faucet had a bronze and white finish, adding a over the top touch of class to the room. It's handle bars were going either right or left all crusted in bronze.
Next to the sink, there was a washer and a dryer, neatly stacked on top of each other. They were a pure pearl white just like the bathtub. She opened the washer and grabbed some clothes from the floor. Although Octavia was usually neat and clean, she had a nasty habit of leaving her dirty clothes on the floor of the bathroom every time she went to take a shower. The bitter taste filled her mouth which left her with a undesireable after taste
After all the clothes were placed in the washer, Octavia closed the lid and set it on medium load before stalking off. Walking out of the bathroom, Octavia walked back down the hall, passing her kitchen she decided to go in for a snack but stopped once she saw the overloading dished piled on one another unevenly. A disaster site just waiting to happen.
The dinner she had yesterday had long since dried and was now clinging to the dishes. The thought of doing dishes sent a mixture of odors running through her mouth like a parade. She groaned at the very thought. Reluctantly, she decided to do them later and instead lounge her leather sofa.
Octavia sprawled herself all along the sofa, leaving no room for anyone else. She closed her eyes; her mouth gained a smirk as she thought of the audition a few nights back. The city council of Canterlot had held auditions for a symphony to have the honor to perform for Princess Luna and Princess Celestia.
Their audition performance was a majority of sad, soft, and quiet notes leading towards a big jump waking everyone up. Just imagining the giant wooden floor beneath her hooves. The stage being graced with all the best players Canterlot had to offer, all lined up in a row ready to practice made Octavia squeal with joy. After all, only the best players were aloud.
During her time in Canterlot, Octavia had gained quite the reputation for being one of the best cellist this side of Fillydelphia. She played in any and all shows she was capable of performing, but having to move to Ponyville, she had become an unknown artist once more. Her prestigious reputation had been lost in the move, forcing her to have to work from the bottom up once more. The only pony who knew her was Vinyl Scratch, her best friend.
As she lied there on the couch, Octavia began to drift off into a slumber. Just as she slipped into sleep, she was awoken from a loud sound that echoed throughout the room. Startled, Octavia jumped up from her position and landed back on the couch, planting her face firmly upon it. Lifting her head, she gave a groan and rolled her eyes,
"Who could that be!?" she exclaimed in a frustrated tone as she spouted a few feathers that had gotten in her mouth from the cushioning. she slumped back down on her couch letting the phone ring a few more times. Annoyed, she then gave up and slugged to the colossal telephone that overlapped the room.
The phones covering was a glossed black, with a worn down pole sticking out of it. Hoping the person calling would hang up, she slowly grabbed the pole to her mouth a slid it out.
"Hello?" Octavia asked in a low voice.
"Good heavens thank goodness you answered!" The pony on the other line exhaled a sigh of relief. She had a familiar accent that Octavia recognized. She pondered on the thought leaving the pony on the other line without any further words, hoping that they would just assume the line got dropped or something of the sort so they would hang up. "Is anyone there?" The voice asked again.
"Oh um..." Octavia answered snapping herself out of her devious thought. "Who is this?" Octavia finally managed to say. She then silently cursed at the pony on the other side of the line that had disturbed her from her slumber.
It's probably that pink pony trying to catch up with me again. The very thought sent a chill up Octavia's spine.
"It's uh."- There was a big crash like glass breaking in the background that made Octavia jump once more. She heard the pony scold at something or someone in the background. ‘‘Its Rarity darling, we met before have not we?" Rarity breathed into the phone. Octavia let out a breath of relief it was not that loud, noisy, pink pony.
"Yes I believe we have. Is there something I can help you with?'' Octavia asked.
Rarity was the only pony that Octavia actually liked in her new town, besides Vinyl and Derpy. Her poised and excellent mannerisms were always sublime; they pleased Octavia. They had met when Octavia was on the lookout for her house. Noticing Rarity's shop whilst on her housing mission, she walked in to take a look at her wears. The two instantly struck up a conversation, talking of things that suited their interests. For Rarity it was fashion, and music for Octavia. After a little while had passed, Octavia mentioned that she was looking for a change of scenery and was considering Ponyville for a possible place to live in. Rarity was well informed of the housing market, which quite surprised Octavia. She had given some insight on the benefits of moving to Ponyville and in fact persuaded her into moving to Ponyville.
"Well, I know this is rather sudden, but I need to ask a favor of you. I have to go to Manehatten for a trip, only for a few days or so. Possibly a week at most, and Sweetie Belle needs someone to babysit her." Octavia's mind went blank and her ears deaf. Rarity continued explaining her current predicament, but Octavia didn't hear a peep. Her mind was too focused on what had already said.
Sweetie Belle, why her?
Octavia had only been in Ponyville long enough to recognize most of the ponies that lived here. Or at the very least, the ones that made an impression on her, and boy did Sweetie Belle make an impression on her. Sweetie was a part of a loud noisy group called 'The Cutie Mark Crusaders'. This troublesome trio caused all kinds of riff raff between the town trying to find their cutie marks while making such a noise. Not to mention damaging various properties. With each passing the two had, Octavia was sure to obtain a headache from it. After a while she thought it best to try to avoid the filly all together, or as much as possible.
"So, do you think you'd be able to do it?" Rarity asked.
Snapping herself out of her thoughts Octavia responded with. "Sure, I mean I'm not exactly comfortable with this sort of thing thoug-"
"Splendid! she will be their tomorrow after school." Rarity butted in. Octavia then heard Rarity hang up. Standing there, Octavia slowly lowered the phone away from her ear.
Them, her, why?! She thought. Being with any pony here would be a feat in itself but Sweetie Belle? Octavia wasn't sure how well she would be able to handle it. She was about to call Rarity back as she stretched her mouth to grab the pole. she was about two inches away till thought popped into her head. What kind of pony would I be to Rarity if I were to go back on my word. Even if it was Sweetie Belle, I will do my best to fulfill my obligation to her.
She walked away from the phone in a aggravated huff. Tossing herself onto the couch, she tried to lay back on the now cold sofa that lingered into her coat. Her head was now having a major headache pound against her head. Let out a long groan, she rubbed her temples together.
What have I gotten myself into? She twisted her head slightly which gave her a decent view of the fields and plains going on as far as the eye can see, through her window. As she gazed out in the view, something small caught her attention. Three fillies could be seen, pulling some plants with all their might. They laughed and giggled as they pulled the plants with all their might, sweating bullets under the hot sun that shone on their coats.
Sweetie Belle caught her attention first; she was watching a tan pony pulling at the plants as she cheered her on. The pony heaved and pulled as hard as she could but to no avail. Octavia turned her head back around and laid on her side, thinking.
What will I do now with her on my hooves?
Lights-- that was all Octavia saw, swirling around her in various shades of pink and red, all darting left to right liike shooting stars in the night sky. Everytime she tried to look at the colors they darted from her vision quickly, like lightning flashing and striking the ground with such fury.
The lights suddenly changed course, altering their path, their colors slowly fading and merging into a single glowing white ball flashing slightly in front of her eyes. She didn't really know where she was at the moment. The glowing white light was the only thing accompanying her in the field of black. She couldn't remember a thing about how she got there.
It started to pulse softly, by each pulse it started to thump. Each thump was bigger then the other. She stared in awe at the circle, as though she was hypnotized by it.
As she stared, the light started to grow stronger, getting bigger and bigger at each pulse. It filled her vision, momentarily blinding her. She covered her face with her hooves, blocking out the ball that thumped and grew bigger and bigger every second.
She felt the heat radiating off her skin at every thump. She eventually felt herself being drawn towards the ball, like a hand tugging at her body. As she removed her hooves from her eyes, The light grew bigger and bigger. Flashing with painful intensity. The pull was now to strong to resist, and the blinding light consumed her.
She found the color fading away slowly, leaving its light faintly in her vision. She found herself floating above something, it was very blurry in her eyes. Everything at first was white and fuzzy. The thought of not knowing where she was frightened her so she covered her eyes.
After convincing herself everything was okay she finally opened her eyes. She could clearly see now as her eyes darted around the room. It was an all-black room, her eyes went straight for the cello. The cello was there laid across the wall. She suddenly felt like she was home.
She through among her house, studying everything from the dressers to her bed. She carried herself around the house, examining the little things in her home like where her instruments were placed. She looked up towards the kitchen, dirt was sprawled randomly across the ground, covering it with dirt from the outside world. Dished piled on top of each other from Celestia-knows- icky substances on the dishes clinging to them. Water dripped from the dirty sink, dripping down the side, into a huge puddle on the ground mixed with the dirt.
Her vision trailed off towards the sea of water as it trickled away from the kitchen, making a thin coat of water slowly coming towards the living room. She followed the water as it trickled across her tile, like it knew where it was headed.
Then the water stopped, trailing in a perfect circle, Sweetie Belle was in the middle of it, prancing along the room trashing the place with her hooves as she knocked over precious valuables of hers, like a vase her mother gave her when she was little. All of her pictures had fallen, shards of glass covered the ground.
She heard screeching noises from Sweetie Belle as she shrieked and 'tried" to sing. The singing burned Octavia's ears as she watched the horror unfold in her very home. Sweetie Belle then grabbed her precious cello and strummed it hard with her hooves. Sweetie Belle's singing mixed with the ear-piercing sound of her cello getting harshly played on violated Octavia. The cello. was like a baby to her.
Sweetie Belle kept violating her cello and went to the other instruments that lay on the wall. Sweetie Belle pushed the cello against the wall harshly, breaking into little pieces of wood scattered on the floor. Sweetie Belle looked like she couldn't care less as she sung and whistled while touching and somewhat playing with Octavia's instruments.
It felt like hours until the slowly scene faded away from her vision.
Octavia woke up suddenly, breathing in and out as hard as she tried to recover from the horrid nightmare that had unfolded in her mind. Her eyes darted around the room faster than a cheetah, checking every detail of the room to make sure she wasn't still dreaming. No traces of dirt were in the kitchen and nothing was destroyed. She got up dangling her hooves off of the bed. She yawned and stretched.
Trying to forget the dream, she slid out of bed and headed for the kitchen in search of breakfast. Dozens of different cereals, from Frosted Hayflakes to Cocoa Daisies to Shredded Oat Crisps, tempted her taste buds as she opened the cabinet. Each one sounded equally mouth-watering, making it hard to choose between them.
Undecided, she closed the cabinets, making a slamming sound in the uninterrupted silence. She yawned again, letting all the air in and out slowly, then cracked her neck slightly and limped away from the kitchen, heading for her music room. On the way, she paused to look at herself in the bathroom mirror, and groaned at the mass of loops and tangles her mane had turned into overnight.
She was still half-worried that the dream hadn't been a dream, and hesitated a moment before entering the music room, afraid of what she might find. She was relieve to find that all of her instruments were place neatly against the wall. Nothing was broken, and there was no sign of anything being touched by Sweetie Belle
Sweetie Belle?
She was supposed to babysit her today! She dreaded the idea, and was tempted to just slump back into her warm bed and pretend she'd forgotten about it.
She turned her head slightly, just enough to see the time.
12:00 PM
Good, I can fix myself, and get myself ready for her. Octavia you can do this, you can babysit her.
