Sweetie Belle turned over in her bed, the green blanket embracing her warmly. Opening her eyes slowly, she stared blankly out the window, moving her hooves up to push the blanket away. Her little hind legs squirmed in discomfort as she kicked the rest of the blanket off her. Ignoring the warmth coming from beside her, the unicorn rolled sideways out of bed, landing on the floor with a soft thump.
Pushing herself into a shaking stand, Sweetie Belle avoided looking back at her bed, and instead trotted to the hallway, pushing herself past the slightly ajar door. It opened with a creak, and she paused, her heart thumping, hoping that she hadn’t been noticed.
There was no sound beyond that.
Sighing slightly, Sweetie Belle tried to calm herself. Even her exhalation shivered, the sigh that had been uttered just moments before had been broken and quivering. Gently trotting to the bathroom, she blinked hard, a tear coming from her eye.
Shaking her head, bed head mane swaying to-and-fro, she hopped up on the stool in front of the sink, and looked at herself in the mirror. Sweetie’s large green eyes were bloodshot, and her mane looked worse than she could have even imagined herself. Gagging slightly at this look, she used her feeble magic to levitate a mane brush to her head. Trying to battle with her mane, Sweetie grit her teeth. Her mane was as stubborn as ever, however, so the bed head stayed.
Sweetie could still feel sweat all over her body, and everything about her held a slightly-sticky quality. Sniffing the air, Sweetie’s eyes narrowed in disgust at the scent that came from her. Almost immediately, the filly had thrown herself into the shower, and was turning the faucets to let loose water upon her.
Jumping back quickly as a jet of ice cold water splattered against her, Sweetie Belle eyed the shower head apprehensively. Softly creeping towards where the water splashed against the porcelain of the tub, the filly focused hard on the hot water knob. Her magic surrounded the knob with a faint aura, turned ever-so-slightly, then dissipated.
“Ugh...” Sweetie moaned. She couldn’t focus at all, her mind was swimming, and she was certain that a headache was forming. Taking a deep breath, she shot out her foreleg, braving the stream of cold water so that she could bestow upon her a much more manageable temperature.
Sweetie Belle winced as the cold water came in contact with her fur, matting it down. Her hoof pressed against the cold metal faucet knob, and with all her might, the filly yanked the knob to the side. A few more seconds—ones that crawled like hours—and the water metamorphosed from a terrible, freezing cold to a much more enjoyable warm temperature.
Sweetie Belle inched the rest of her body under the water’s cascade, and sighed as her mane was pushed fully flat. Sitting down on her little white backside, she closed her eyes and lifted her head to face the stream of water, almost smiling as the water pushed around her coat and mane.
Shifting to the side slightly, Sweetie Belle tried to use her magic to grab the soap bar, but was once again foiled by her lack of concentration. Frowning in frustration, Sweetie Belle balanced the soap on her hoof, and began to scrub her body with it. First her chest, then her legs, and finally, her face; they were all scrubbed as hard as she could with that bar of soap. She blanched and spat out suds when she accidentally opened her mouth, and she snorted when she inhaled a little bit of the bubbles.
She had to get as clean as she could.
Sweetie Belle grabbed a bottle of shampoo in her mouth, and bit down on it. The bottle yielded an ample amount of shampoo onto her hoof, and the filly dragged it through her mane, scrubbing it about as best as she could. The shampoo suds piled high in her mane, only to be washed away by the water as she turned her head underneath it.
Laying down in the mess of soap and shampoo suds, Sweetie Belle closed her eyes and inhaled sharply. It was another shaky breath, one that was also filled with a good amount of water. Coughing on the sudden shower water, Sweetie knew it was time to end her cleaning.
Turning off the cold water first, and the hot water next, Sweetie stared across the bathroom at the towel rack. Rarity had embroidered these towels specifically for the two of them: a royal purple with gold trim and the letter “R” stitched in denoted Rarity’s, and a light lavender with a green trim emblazoned with the letters “SB” denoted Sweetie Belle’s.
They looked so far away.
Sweetie Belle took a shaky step from the shower, and grimaced as her hoof came in contact with the cold, cold tiles. She took her other hoof off the bathtub, and her eyes widened as she felt herself slip sideways. Without so much time as to scream, Sweetie tumbled head-over-hooves onto the floor, grunting as she fell onto the bath rug.
“Ow...” she moaned, laying on the floor, her coat dripping with the water from her cleaning. Forcing herself to her hooves, Sweetie hobbled over to the towel rack, and pulled it off, wrapping it around herself. Shaking herself vigorously in it, and rubbing the water from her body and mane, she dropped it on the floor without much regard for being neat. Trotting back up to the stool, she looked at herself again in the mirror. At least, she tried to, because the hot water from her shower had caused the mirror to fog up. Wiping her hoof against the glass, she looked at her reflection. Not much had changed, other than the fact that she was now wet.
Sighing, she took the mane brush in her hoof, not even bothering with her magic this time, knowing that it was just going to become more and more useless. As she brushed her mane, Sweetie noticed that she still felt as though she had not taken a shower at all—still sweaty and dirty, except now the smell was gone and she was wet.
Her mane fully brushed, Sweetie wandered downstairs to the kitchen. Her hooves made light tip-tap sounds as she wandered down the staircase, aimlessly bumping into the railing that led down to the living room. Looking around the room as she stepped onto the hardwood, the filly stood in place for a moment before continuing on to the kitchen.
Once there, she opened the fridge, her hoof quaking slightly as she pulled it open. A blast of cold air met her face, and it felt good for just a moment, washing away that skeevy feel that lurked around her. Rummaging inside the fridge, she unearthed a package of bread, some juice, and two eggs. Carefully balancing these on her back, Sweetie trotted to the counter, set the ingredients down on it, and got to work.
Pulling up a skillet with some difficulty, given her newfound magic had now refused her, she deposited it upon the stove, and lit a fire beneath it, watching aimlessly as the blue flames licked the bottom of the iron pan. Snapping herself back to attention, she carefully took an egg in her mouth, and cracked it, observing the innards slide out of the white husk and land in the pan, where they sizzled loudly. She did this with the other egg as well, and ignored that some of the shell had landed in with the rest of it.
Leaving the eggs there to cook for now, she walked over to the toaster with the bread, and slid two pieces into the toaster. Pressing down on the notch, she walked back to the counter to pour herself a glass of juice into one of the cups. The counter was already strewn with multiple glasses and pieces of silverware, so Sweetie poured herself a mug of orange juice, not bothering to check if it was clean or not.
She tried once again to use her magic to lift the glass, focusing as hard as she could, but her mind was like oil in a puddle of water—it squirmed away every time she tried to grab it. Her magical aura surrounded the glass, and she grit her teeth, focusing as best as she possibly could.
Sweetie’s eyes widened as the glass began to levitate, and for the first time that day, a tired smile graced her lips. She slowly turned her head, trying to drag the glass along through the air with her.
The glass fell from her magical grasp, and shattered upon the floor, sending glass and juice everywhere. Sweetie Belle groaned in frustration, and closed her eyes tight, a few tears leaking out. Some were of anger, some were of hopelessness, but most were of confusion. She didn’t know how to deal with everything that was happening to her right now. If she knew all of... this would result as a consequence, she would have never let it happen.
The unpleasant, gritty feeling continued to surround her.
A loud POP brought her back to reality, and Sweetie opened her eyes quickly. Cringing, she saw that her eggs were beginning to overcook, large deformed bubbled of flaky yolk arising from the surface. Scrambling over, she turned off the stove in a hurry, and assessed the damage.
The egg was mostly unharmed, if a bit more chewy than she had hoped, so Sweetie slid it on to her plate. She wasn’t a complete terror at making food anymore, so she considered this an accomplishment. The smell of burning bread, however, snapped the filly out of her small victory.
Dashing over to the toaster, Sweetie’s hooves swept up from under her. Landing on her back for the second time that day, she eyed the juice on the floor disdainfully, and crawled back up to the toaster, removing her almost completely black toast. Sighing mournfully, the burnt toast joined the hard eggs, and Sweetie carried the plate to the table on her back, knowing that her magic would not come to her.
Setting the plate down, and sitting down at the table herself, she took a tentative bite of the burnt toast. Sweetie recoiled at the charcoaly taste that accompanied it. As she chewed it, her hooves wandered to her thighs, and rested there. The toast, unsupported, fell to her plate dully as she finished the bite.
An overwhelming icky, sticky sensation washed over Sweetie Belle, and she tried to force the thoughts from her mind. Maybe she would take another shower, and rub all of this away from her. She needed to get as clean as possible, this was the only solution, after all.
Her small ears perked up as she heard hoofsteps advance towards the kitchen door. Sweetie’s heart sank into her stomach, and her stomach flip-flopped all around. The last thing she needed was—
“Good morning, Sweetie Belle!”
Sweetie Belle almost burst out laughing in relief. It was only Rarity!
Rarity still had her sleep-blindfold halfway on, and with a yawn, the elder unicorn used her magic to remove it fully. “I see you made breakfast!” Looking around, a small smile formed on her muzzle. “And you only broke one glass! Sweetie, you’re improving!”
Sweetie said nothing.
“Oh, come now, it was only a joke,” Rarity apologized lightheartedly. “I didn’t mean it. How’s your morning going?”
Sweetie Belle still said nothing, staring down at her plate of food. After a long pause, she opened her mouth, voice basically a croak.
“Fine.”
“Well, that’s always good to hear.” Rarity responded, her smile ever-present. “You did leave some water on the floor after you took your shower though, when I went in for my pre-breakfast hairbrush I noticed a large puddle. Do try and remember to clean it up next time, alright?”
Sweetie Belle nodded her head.
“Alright! Say, where’s Scootaloo? Did you have fun with her during your sleepover last night?”
She hadn’t.
