I love my sister. Yes, I admit it, though it is not an easy thing to admit, even to oneself. I hear you say, but does not everypony? And on that account you would be quite right, but Sweetie Belle is different. Even now as her head rests on my chest, I can feel the intimate bonds that bind us together so acutely, the warmth of our affection deep in my chest.
Ah that pretty head – so pure and young. She reminds me so much of myself when I was her age, so full of dreams and passions, on the cusp of marehood. When you are young anything seems possible, even those things which are forbidden. I suppose you could say then that I am still young at heart.
Truthfully though, it was not always thus. These feelings were not innate within me and they came on quite suddenly. It was just a short time ago, actually, that they first made themselves known to me.
I was walking Sweetie home from school (she was on her final year before graduation). Sweetie was in a particularly exuberant mood, singing and laughing and jumping about. I recognized that emotion immediately, but decided to indulge my curiosity.
“You seem awfully cheery, darling.”
“I am!”
“What for? Surely not all of that for a passing grade.”
“Better than that!”
“Oh?”
“Take a guess!”
“Well if I had to guess I’d say you were in love.”
Her white alabaster cheeks turned red and I could not help but blush slightly myself at the thought.
“Who?” I asked with more than a hint of enthusiasm.
“Promise to keep a secret?”
“Of course. Cross my heart.”
“His name is Button Mash.”
She followed up and told me all about this young colt and how he had stolen her heart away. She went on about his looks, the way he talked, the jokes he told, and his circle of friends. She was quite taken with him I could tell.
Though I shared in Sweetie Belle’s happiness, I could not help but feel a tinge of defensiveness in my soul. The thought of my precious, naïve Sweetie navigating the treacherous waters of love’s rough seas gave me more than a little cause for anxiety. But for the moment, I was content to let things be and to take as much apparent delight as she did, though I privately had my misgivings.
It would surely pass. All young love does. She would have her heart broken, of course. It was a rite of passage for any young filly her age. And I would be there to comfort her when it did.
But it didn’t.
Quite the opposite actually, it grew. What had first been a small crush soon turned into a full blown relationship. They would hang out together, talk on the phone for hours, and worse still they started sending each other really bad romantic poetry on folded notebook paper sheets.
I saw all of this unfold with growing dismay and apprehension. Soon, Sweetie Belle stopped visiting as often as she used to, preferring instead to go to the arcade where she would find her sweetheart. This young colt – this interloper – was prying my Sweetie Belle away from me and there was nothing I could do to stop it.
When I expressed my feelings to Twilight, she seemed passive in her consolations. She assured me it was natural for all older siblings to feel protective of their younger siblings, but that it was natural and healthy to let them have their emotional independence.
I took her words at face value, although I did not divulge the true nature of my heart. No, I would not do that. Twilight was far too upright, too conscientious, to be of much help in these matters. For you see, I was beginning to realize that the nature of my jealousy went far beyond the simple affection that normally exists in any family, it was beginning to take on a burning flame all its own.
At first I was repulsed by my inward desires and tried earnestly to banish such intrusive thoughts from my mind. Work helped in this endeavor as it provided an outlet to distract myself from such notions, but just as always, whenever I found myself alone without nothing left to keep my mind occupied, my thoughts would inevitably roam back the image of Sweetie Belle, fairest and most beautiful of my own blood, and the distempered lust of my own passion would overtake me.
As these feelings for Sweetie seemed to grow, so did my hatred for her consort, until at last I was at the point of utter loathing just hearing his name mentioned. It was then that I was resolved that my sister would belong nopony but myself.
I was very meticulous in my planning. One must be in such affairs. It’s easy enough to play a match-maker, quite another to play the part of a Machiavel. It requires a sense of delicacy and patience, an ability to wait until certain ideal circumstances present themselves.
As fortune would have it, I did not have long to wait. The madness of Carneighval was upon us.
Carneighval is an annual tradition for ponies to dress up in masquerade fashion and, in the spirit of turning things topsy-turvy, engage in all sorts of activities that would normally not be socially permissible. Such festivities provided a perfect opportunity to move about without drawing any undue attention.
I followed Sweetie and Button Mash (they naturally went together) until a chance encounter when Spike, who under no prompting of my own, just happened to lead Sweetie Belle off and left Button by his lonesome.
I approached him quite amicably.
“Button, dearest Button, how are you? You seem like you are enjoying yourself.”
He wore a clown mask which I thought suited him appropriately enough and his cheeks were glowing red. I could tell that he had perhaps been indulging in a bit of Sweet Apple Acre’s hard cider.
“Heya Miss Rarity,” he replied. Always so cordial this one. “Doing good, quite a night for a party, huh?”
“Indeed it is, darling! Indeed it is! But you see I wanted to find you for you see I have a certain diamond platinum limited edition pre-order exclusive DLC content version of whatever that game series you like so well is and…”
“You have the newest-”
“Yes, that one.”
“But how?”
“Well, I bought it from a certain vendor and I know how much you were interested in it. He was offering at such a good price though and I didn’t want to miss out on a steal. I think I might have gotten ripped off though and wanted to see if you knew if it was the genuine article.”
“Get out! A platinum limited edition?”
“I have my doubts.”
“Two months before release!?”
“And I really must satisfy them. But don’t bother, Button. Perhaps some other time, you need to get back to Sweetie Belle and…”
“She can wait for me. A platinum edition! Oh boy! I gotta see it! Can I? Can I? Please?”
“Maybe you should. But please, only a quick detour. I would hate to keep you from the party.”
I would like to tell you that I had a video game to give him or else that I bricked him up alive inside a wine crypt, but alas, I’m not so imaginative. I will say though that our encounter left him positively breathless.
Sweetie Belle was of course distraught. After all, who wouldn’t be? She grieved for him and hoped against hope that they would find him.
They never did of course. And they never would. But Sweetie didn’t need to know that.
As time went on though, her condition only seemed to worsen. She became darkened and withdrawn, despite my best efforts to comfort her.
She soon graduated and was on her way to college. I judged the time right to finally confess my true feelings.
Sweetie was over for one of her weekend stays during the summer. We were both eating quietly at the dinner table when I advanced the subject.
“Sweetie, has anyone told you what a pretty mare you are?” She was silent, so I continued. “You have grown into a fine mare. A beautiful mare. I don’t suppose you have thought to start seeing other ponies yet?”
She didn’t move and I could sense some apprehension in her looks as she listlessly played with her food.
“What I mean to say is…sometimes you can find companionship in the most unlikely of places.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, you like staying here with me, don’t you?”
“Yes, but, you’re my sister.”
“And you love your sister don’t you?”
There was an unsettling silence before she got up from the table.
“I’d like to go home now,” she stated. “Please take me home.”
I begged her stay and apologized for my thoughtlessness but she would have none of it. She was making for the door before I entreated her in an act of desperation: “Do you want to know where Button Mash is?”
She froze instantly and I began to relate it all to her – how my feelings had grown for her, how attractive she was, and finally what I had done with her lover, just so that we could be together.
But rather than gratitude or even affection she reacted with horror and repulsion – like I was some kind of villain! I saw the former love in my sister’s eyes turn to hatred and I knew that I had lost my sister for good.
Oh the agony of my heart at that moment, it is fitful to relate. I pulled her into the tightest embrace I had ever managed and promised her that I would never let go, never again would we be apart.
And so, here we are in the quiet summer night, the stars shining up above and only the chorus of crickets giving sound in the eternal silence of our love. Her head rests on my chest now, where it had always belonged. Her eyes stare at mine. Yes, I see in the depths of that pure soul of hers. Her heart belongs to me now. We are together at last and Pony Jesus has not said a word!
