Rarity's Complicate

Rarity stood there. She just stood there for a good four minutes.

"Oh. Oh... Bonbon and Miss Heartstrings must be peeved with my poor service. I should... explain... my..."

She didn't move. She didn't even try. Somehow she knew that it was out of the question. Still...

"I should fix it. Yes. I very much should. Fix. It."

Her eyes were immobile. They sat there, staring at the curtain that, to Rarity, seemed the worst shade of red. She wondered why she ever chose such a dreadful colour.

"Such a hideous red."

Except it wasn't red. It was blue. The nice, pretty, expensive blue drapes she had sewed just the night before. It wasn't the drapes she was seeing. Yes, that was what she was looking at...

"What a horrible red colour... it's just... just..."

Rarity levitates a pair of her scissors and repeatedly stabs and cuts the blue drapes until nothing left but scraps of fabric lay on the floor. Rarity drops the scissors and realizes what she has done to her favourite drapes.

"... Rarity... Rarity... oh poor Rarity... I... I have to tell them. Yes, I have to tell them all, warn them all..."

She starts walking towards the door. It's already nighttime. It's cold, dark, and Rarity looks up toward the ceiling of her shop. It's not dark in her shop, but she has to strain her eyes to see the ceiling.

"It is not like they would even believe me."

She starts walking toward the back of the shop, where her bedroom is. She starts her evening routine: shower, mane, face, hooves. Rarity spares no expense in her appearance. Tonight, she merely slinks into bed and starts to cry.

"It isn't f-fair... It isn't... fair...!"

She forgets to turn off the light. She gets up and falls out of bed, smacking her face into the cold ground. She sets herself back up and slouches toward the lamp. She has apparently forgotten that she could turn it off with magic from her bed and continues to forget it when she looks for a pedal (a pedal on the floor connected to the lamp that earth ponies use to turn their lamps on or off).

"Oh. Silly me. That's what earth ponies use..."

She bites her lower lip as it quivers.

Rarity turns off the lamp and attempts to fly to her bed.

... fly?

"Wha~ What... I'm not a pegasus..."

Her eyes widen, pupils constrict and mouth shakes. Her hooves barely keep her weight.

She stumbles toward her bed. She trips on something and turns the light back on to see. It was a book. The book she borrowed last week from Twilight Sparkle.

Rarity screams. Her chest moves fore and aft, in and out, its pace quickens as her breathing becomes shallower and shallower. Her screaming has stopped, her hyperventilation has stopped. In fact, much her has stopped. She just sort of lays there while images of blood, wire and her friends flash inside her mind. The knowledge reverts her to a whimpering mess. She realizes sleep is out of the question.

Rarity's gait is broken. She makes her way to the shop's main room. Where her dresses, drawings, fabric stayed, stayed there because Rarity put them there, to keep them in the organized disorder she meant it to be. Rarity, the whimpering mess is dead.

"This... is not... not!!!"

And Rarity loses all control.

She devastates her dresses, drawings and forces her fabric down any drain pipe she can find. The rest of it, the rest of it she cannot tear and destroy, she sets on fire. She watches the fire, smoke and ash twist around itself. In it, she sees the formless keepers, the floating industry selling its terror and her friends. The sight of her friends, the burn of the smoke and the radiating heat brings tears to her eyes. She watches the fire and lets her eyes sting and water for hours on end. She knows deep in her soul that she deserves this punishment. She pretends not to know why. She pretends, but she knows. Deeper still in the recesses of her soul, she knows... she knows... this punishment could never be enough.