The darkness had a hold of everything, and the rusty iron smell filled the air around her with putrid memories, like it had infected the entire underground room. The green glow of Sweetie’s magic scared the darkness away to illuminate the water-stained cement walls. Where was the sickly smell of death coming from? There was no blood anywhere, yet the constant smell of it flooded her nostrils. Maybe it really was a memory. The smell disappeared, leaving only mildew. What a day of those, Sweetie was starting to feel sick from all these memories. Maybe coming back to Ponyville wasn’t worth it all.

The distressed mare walked further into the underground room until Sweetie became aware of shapes sitting on a jumbled pile. Boxes and equipment such as sewing machines lay about in an organized fashion, like everything else about the building. What really caught Sweetie’s attention was a mirror sitting untouched in a corner. Was it crying like a foal on time out in the corner?

Before she could do anything else, she ruffled through her bag and carefully pulled out what looked like a simple coffee can with no label covering the thin metal sides, which it was. She she twisted the top off, oh so gently, and gave it a sniff to test and see if it was going to work. She jerked away, crinkling her nose in disgust, as the sickening smell of rotten meat made her eyes water a bit. Yep, it’ll work. Fully opening the can, she placed it in the middle of the room and took a step back, not taking her eyes off the trap of her own creation.

The trap didn’t take long to begin working, as she saw the edges of the rotten meat begin to slowly disintegrate by what only looked like air. But just as quickly as it had started, it ended with the rotten meat being only a fraction of what it was by quite an amount...Hey, ponies could be useful! Through the mask she wore, Sweetie Belle smiled like a little foal on Hearth’s Warming Eve at her ingenious device. She had poisoned the meat with an herb that she noticed killed off the parasite...trial and error was how she knew.

She almost pranced back over to the can and carefully screwed the lid back on. She gingerly returned it to her saddlebag. The biggest problem with the trap was that it left such a disgusting smell in the air, as if she was having sex with Celestia herself with how old she was, if she wasn’t dead. The bucking shrew...no not that word, she can’t say that word...Oh well...buck, buck, buckity, buck, buck, buck. No pony was around to hear her anyway!

It should be safe enough to take off her mask...it was safe. If there were any parasites left, there would be too few to really affect her...trial and error. She unbuckled the strap that held the breathing tool, apparatus, whatever it was... the important thing. It struck the ground with a plastic sound, and Sweetie took a deep breath in. Such freedom. Can’t school teach such a concept? Freedom?

Sweetie felt the prickling feeling of the hairs at the base of her tail, she knew that damn mirror was right behind her. Was it silently calling her name on the breath of the wind to the past? It better not be. Curiousity was a strange thing, though she was somewhat uninterested with how she looked. She had seen her reflection in a pond she had passed on her way here from Canterlot. Well, thankfully she wasn’t a cat, because Sweetie allowed herself to turn around and see.

Sweetie’s vision blurred a bit from the first of many salty tears, but it unfortunately wasn’t enough to block out the image that Sweetie saw. The sorry sight that was of her maneless head, shining against the glow of her magic. Protection? She looked terrible! Though just a bit safer.

She felt the exhaustion of overusing her magic beginning to affect her. She felt so drained. But thankfully, she was prepared, but needed to get her priorities straight. Reaching into her saddlebag...then she stopped. She kept having to reach behind her to get something, why couldn’t she take the saddlebag off of her back and lay it down on the floor?

The magical light from her horn began to flicker like a flashlight running low on batteries. She carefully sat her saddlebag on the dusty cement floor. She wouldn’t be able to hold the flashlight, so she used the next best thing. She pulled a lantern out with her mouth and clicked the switch on the side to have the light burst from the center, partially blinding Sweetie with black spots in her vision from stupidly staring at it. The room seemed much larger now and the creepy shapes from the boxes weren’t so creepy anymore.

Sweetie could still hear the childish call of the mirror. Why did she have to see herself? But she turned around anyway. So mentally weak.

Dark-greyish-blue rings encircled her still bright emerald-green eyes with large bags that told the tale of many sleepless nights, spent watching the ring of darkness around her for signs of movement. “RUN SWEETIE RUN!” A female’s voice from her past called into the present, threatening Sweetie...Deep breath, happy thought.

A large pink scar ran across her neck from ear to ear. Okay! That was enough of looking. Was that the fear of seeing them or just the fear of remembering? She wanted to learn from her past, but the past was too scary to look at.

Sweetie raised her eyes to notice from the first time to her utter horror that spiders and their silk webs dotted the ceiling and walls. The cracks and crevices made perfect homes. Beautiful things webs were, especially when heavy with dew that made them look like they were decorated with crystals, but spiders deserved to die! Their eight legs and large eyes, aliens more like it. They just better stay away as she slept.

Speaking of sleep, Sweetie felt the exhaustion start to creep around. She slowly walked over to her bag for one last time and pulled out the folded quilt. She carefully unfolded it out of a complete respect for the work of art. Taking another look at the beautiful blanket, Sweetie noticed a strange pattern on the inside that she wouldn’t have been able to see with the fabric folded up. A message? From Rarity?

Within the creative amounts of colors and shapes, Sweetie could see that the colors made words...a deep, connecting message that made Sweetie’s heart jump. It was almost like she could hear her sister’s voice talk to her. “I Love You, Sweetie Belle.”

Sweetie felt like a foal once again as she pulled as much of the quilt as she could around her body in her forelimbs in a hug. A warm, comfortable hug. She closed her eyes and sighed a deep, comforted sigh.

She whispered, “I love you too, Rarity.”