That Sickly feeling
Written by SanityLost and Taranasaurus
[Chapter 1]
Light green was a color that looked nice on a lot of things. However, on the cheeks of an ivory white unicorn, it looked simply hideous. That’s what Rarity thought anyway. With bloodshot eyes she looked into the mirror and saw a swollen, puffy face. All of the nerves in her forehead were screaming, and every time she tried to use magic, a sharp shock would jolt down the center of her skull.
“Ugh...I look dreadful. I won't be able to create anything today looking like this,” She lamented. Even with her croaking voice, she managed to sound elegant. The unicorn rubbed her horn with a hoof and she felt the familiar shock run down her skull. She winced.
It wasn't as bad as it was yesterday. Yesterday, she could hardly pull herself out of bed. Today she was able to putter around, but not very well. Rarity hoped that in a few more days she would be back in full swing. She had orders to fill.
The unicorn splashed water on her face and made her way back to her bed, making sure to overstep stray pieces of fabric laying on the floor of her ‘inspiration room’. She crawled underneath her thick, warm blanket and was about to go to sleep when she heard a knock on the door. She didn't answer, hoping that whoever it was would just go away. There was another knock.
With a groan, she rolled over. She had told her friends that she was sick so she knew it couldn't be one of them. If it was just a customer, they would come back some other time. Assuming the latter she tried to drift off again, but the knocking continued incessantly, the sound reverberating throughout Carousel Boutique.
A long, moaning whine escaped her lips as she pulled herself out of her bed and unceremoniously fell to the floor with a thump. The constant knocking assaulted her ears, which made the pounding drum in her skull beat more furiously. She would have yelled at the insolent knocker to stop, but that would only make her feel worse.
She slowly walked her way over to the hoof rasping against her door. Her stomach felt like it had turned upside down and she was dizzy. The hoof had knocked against her door for so long, she had wondered how it hadn't shattered into splinters at this point. She unlocked the door and opened it with a hoof to see three grinning faces looking up at her. “Good morning Rarity!” They shouted in unison. Rumbling infernos went off in her head and the white unicorn's skull felt as if it would explode.
She knew the three little fillies well. The one to the left was a yellow earth pony with a red mane, Apple Bloom, to the right was a orange pegasus with a spiked, purple mane, Scootaloo, and the one to the center, an ivory unicorn with curled, purple and pink locks, was her little sister, Sweetie Belle. The Cutie Mark Crusaders, a club the three fillies had formed, named after their quest to obtain their cutie marks.
Rarity groaned. Why now, of all the times they chose to bother her, why now? She looked up and saw two more smiling faces of her mother and father.
“Good Morning Rarity!” Said an Alabaster Unicorn wearing a straw hat.
“Good morning dear. My, you don't look too well,” observed a pearl unicorn with an over styled purple mane, Rarity's mother.
“Really?” asked sarcastically Rarity, hoping those words would make them all disappear so she could go back and sleep.
They didn't.
“Do you mind if we step in?” said her father, taking a step toward the door.
Rarity soundlessly stepped aside. The Cutie Mark Crusaders excitedly bounded in, jumping around in excitement. Scootaloo leaped on a mannequin and pretended to ride on its back while the other two cheered her on.
Rarity's mother and father looked her over. "Oh you poor dear, you look like a total wreck," her mother said in sympathy.
"Man, wouldn't I know it. You look like the quarterback Bronco Nagurski after he's been sacked." Rarity's father made one of his many football references.
"Urgh," Said the fashionista, trying her best to keep her head up.
Rarity's mother grinned, "Well dear we're sorry you feel bad, but we have a favor to ask of you."
"We need you to look after your little sister while your father and I go on vacation," her father finished.
"Ugh..urrghahhht!" Rarity exclaimed.
"What did she say dear?" asked rarity's father.
"She said, 'What?'" Rarity's mother explained, used to hearing her daughter's muffled speech whilst she was sick.
"Urghgh ummm urrppp bluhhhh..." said Rarity.
"What did she say?" Asked her father.
Her mother said, "She said: ‘I couldn't possibly look after them now, I'm sick’."
"Oh don't worry, Sweetie Belle won't be any trouble. She'll also have her friends over to keep her company. Their parents and relatives are going on vacation too!" Her father said enthusiastically.
"Urrgggggghhhh."
"What did she say, dear?"
Rarity's mother smiled, "She said: ‘That’s what I’m afraid of.’ Oh, don't worry dear, it won't be a problem. And if it is, you can always write us!"
"Sure," Rarity's father chimed in, "and it's only a week. With these three little angels, it shouldn't be a problem!"
The Cutie Mark Crusaders stopped destroying Rarity's possessions long enough to turn and smile brightly.
"Urgghgahg ahhh urrryaaghhh urrrrrrhhhh aahhh!"
"What did she say dear?" asked Rarity's father.
Her mother's eyes went wide. "You really don't want to know dear. Anyway, our cab is waiting outside. Goodbye Rarity, and good luck."
Before the sick unicorn had a chance to protest, her parents were already out the door and in their cab, on their way to the train station. Rarity slowly turned to see that the Cutie Mark Crusaders had successfully dismantled half of the room. There were many tears in her most expensive fabrics, and some of the dresses she'd been working on were now in bits and tatters on the floor.
Rarity's eyes went wide and her pupils dilated. The corner of her mouth twitched. Even if she could speak clearly, she would have said nothing. She kept herself calm, because she thought that if she didn't, she would wretch onto the floor.
The Cutie Mark Crusaders looked at her with wide eyes before Sweetie Belle stepped forward, "Ummm...we're sorry sis...we didn't mean to make a mess of things."
“Urrrgh ugh urrrrghm,” Rarity mumbled, her words still slurred and misshaped by her illness.
“Uh, what’d she say?” Scootaloo turned to Sweetie Belle, her voice full of concern.
“Uh, I’m not sure.” Rarity rolled her eyes at her younger sister’s incompetence, before turning towards her work table. She reached out with her mouth and grasped onto a quill that sat on the corner of the old oak counter. Holding it firmly between her teeth, she began to write. Feather scratched against parchment as Rarity wrote down what she had described earlier.
Sweetie Belle walked over to stand behind her sister’s shoulder, attempting to read the note. “It’s... quite... alright!” She finished the last word with a squeak, adding emphasis to her statement. “Well, either that or ‘Cats like I’, but the first one seems to fit better.”
“Sweetie, y’all can read?” Applebloom asked, her chin resting on the floor. Scootaloo stood beside her, looking equally as stunned at this sudden revelation.
“Of course I can read.” Sweetie’s voice broke as she leaped up into the air. She landed, a quizzical look on her face. “Why, can’t you?”
“Well, miss Cheerilee did teach us, but I wasn’t really paying attention,” said Scootaloo, rubbing the back of her neck, a sheepish look on her face.
“And ah just plum forgot it!” said Applebloom, smiling. “It went in one ear, ‘n out the other.”
Sweetie Belle and Rarity rolled their eyes simultaneously. Rarity’s pen scrawled another few scratched words onto a piece of parchment, before hanging it in front of Sweetie Belle.
Sweetie squinted at the writing, scrunching her face up. “It’s... nice... that... you... girls... are... here...” She paused, moving closer to the paper. “What’s this little squiggly thing here?” she said, motioning to the paper.
Scootaloo pushed her way in front of Sweetie, scrambling to see the paper. “I think it’s called a... coma?” she said.
“Comma!” Sweetie bounced up, knocking Scootaloo backwards and onto the floor. “You’re supposed to pause.” she squinted again, before continuing. “But... I’m... not... feeling... very... well... so...” she stopped, scratching her head. Rarity stopped writing and glanced upwards, her eyes pleading. “What does that last bit say? Come to stay? The last hay?”
“Go away!” screamed Rarity, her voice rising two octaves higher. Rarity’s face turned a mix of bright red and sickly green, her hair flew up into strands and her eyes became bloodshot. The three fillies screamed, taking off in the direction of the stairs, and the opposite direction of the hideous monster behind them.
The sudden scream had taken Rarity over the edge, and she toddled towards her bed, before toppling over, asleep.
****
The Cutiemark Crusaders had gathered together in the downstairs lobby of Carousel Boutique, each looking tired and scared from their run in with Rarity.
“Man Sweetie,” began Scootaloo, putting a hoof on her friend’s shoulder. “Your sister is seriously sick.”
“Yeah,” contributed Applebloom, bouncing around in a circle. “What happened to ‘er?”
“Oh, she’s always like this when she has the flu.” Sweetie waved a hoof, shrugging off the matter. “But we aren’t gonna have fun at all this weekend if we can’t get her feeling better, I can tell.”
“But… what can we do about it?” asked Scootaloo.
“I’m not sure.” Sweetie Belle began to rub her chin with a hoof.
“We could… write ‘er a ‘get well card’,” Applebloom said, looking at her friends.
“Nah,” responded Scootaloo. “That wouldn’t do much. How about… well, what do your parents do when you’re sick, Sweetie Belle?”
“Uh, let’s see. They make sure that I’m tucked up nice and warm, and then they tell me to relax. I spend all day just in my room, doing nothing. It’s so boring,” Sweetie Belle said, frowning.
“That’s it?”
“Well…” Sweetie stopped, her eyes suddenly lighting up. “That’s it!”
“What is?” asked Applebloom.
“Well, whenever I’m sick for more than one morning, my parents make me breakfast in bed. So that’s what we should do!” Sweetie Belle said, bouncing up and down.
“We’re going to… cook for your sister?” Scootaloo asked, deadpan.
Applebloom, however, seemed to have brightened up at the prospect. “Ooohh, we could make her toast, and cereal and… and…”
“We’re seriously going to cook, for your sister?”
“Why not?” asked Sweetie Belle, stopping herself mid-jump.
“Well, for starters, we’ve seen how your culinary adventures turn out, and I don’t think Rarity really likes charcoal for breakfast,” Scootaloo said, pointing a hoof at Sweetie, who’s face dropped. “And,” she began, turning to Applebloom. “I’m not sure Rarity wants to have to clean up one of your messes.”
Applebloom pouted, before speaking up. “Well, how about you? Ah’ve never seen you cook before, your cooking might even be as bad as ours!”
“Huh, you wish,” said Scootaloo, turning her face to the side. “My cookings skills are way better than anything you guys could do.”
“Prove it.” Sweetie Belle manoeuvred herself into Scootaloo’s vision.
“What?” Scootaloo spluttered, turning to face her friend.
“You heard me, prove it.” Sweetie Belle lifted herself up to her full height. “Show us that you can cook, by making a breakfast for Rarity.”
“Uh, well.” Scootaloo could see that she was well and truly stuck here. “Alright,” she said, giving in. “I’ll cook your stupid meal.” Sweetie Belle and Applebloom started to jump up and down. “But on one condition.”
They stopped jumping. “What?” asked Sweetie Belle.
“You two have to be my kitchen hands.”
****
Next time: The Supermarket!
****
This story is a collaboration between myself and Sanity lost, who can be found here: [Link]
