Death In My House (Sonic boys x reader)

¤𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔴𝔬¤ 𝔞 𝔡𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔪 𝔭𝔢𝔱

::::::
Previously:
Who is that anyway?
What is it doing in my head, if it's supposed to be a nightmare?
Or is it a dream?
I could only guess before my non existent muscles gave out, and i fell to my side, down on the grass.
The dark gray creature kneeled over me, calmly looking in my eyes, before 'speaking'.
Time to go, human.
:::

I was gonna forget all that I've dreamt of until I had returned back to the mental world, wasn't i? Only one logical way for me to find out.
...

Being woken up by an overly loud alarm at (7.30) seven thirty in the morning never really got annoying, until today that is.
I felt as if I've only slept for mere minutes, about five at maximum when instead i had been knocked out cold for at least five hours, when when subtracting the awake moments in between those hours.
*Sigh* I could sense today was gonna be a long ass day.

Getting up today for some reason required extra energy, causing me to deeply grunt while doing so.
Not bothering to make my bed since I've already wasted at least ten minutes of my precious morning time to even try and get myself standing i stretched a bit. The bone snapping was heard from Satan knows where in my body.
However the feeling and the sound it made was really satisfying.
I slipped into my colourful oversized anime hoodie that had a cute little anime character on it, not remembering the name sadly but oh well; I also got out my favourite baggy pants.

These are my favourite for a reason, it has extra pockets so i can leave the home without a bag in case I'm not going to school since it can fit all necessities. From my phone, keys, money, cards to some not so nessesary items that i think should be on me in life death situations. So what are these items to be precise?
A small pocket knife to use in self defence for starters, then few band-aids, since i have scratches all over my body, a mechanical pencil along with an eraser and the coal refills incase I run out while drawing. To be honest if you don't bother carrying these items with you i won't say nothing, but if someone told me that i should not have these on me I will go full on defensive mode. A Karen if you will, just without the terrible haircut, makeup and the appearance of a middle aged woman.

Back to my morning routine I had to do some extra work that usually gets done night prior to a schoolday; Packing a bag with the correct books for different subjects and the extra necessities.
Obviously due to last night being not so normal I didn't pack my schoolbag so that's exactly what i did. Luckily I had two stacks of books on my nightshelf for incidents like these, one of them being perfectly stashed school owned books and the other- a bit more messy but that won't erase the usefulness- all of the workbooks and notebooks for each class.

Some teachers have decided to make it extra difficult for us students and just say
"Hey, I know school gave you a music book but I'm gonna be an asshole and make you leave it home and carry a binder with all of the papers I'm gonna give you. And you better have a hole puncher with you to put all the papers in there because if you don't I'll instantly take a point off of your final grade."
And did i mention the even smaller portion of those teachers add to it.
"Oh silly me, I forgot to say that you will get a final grade for the binder and each of the papers I've given you throughout the whole year have to be there and with finished exercises."
Also with these kind of teachers there is no such option of
"I was sick, could I get a copy of that paper you gave the class a week ago?"
You'll just get a death glare from the same teacher and no answer that should say what's on the caffeine addicted, no sleep, overworked adults messed up head already.
I don't want to point no fingers or blame anyone but you are in charge of your own life- depending on who you are the portion of what you can and cannot do is shiftable, but there's at least something, even if it does not seem to alter the outcome that you can do. In all honesty if I do end up making it to the teachers age and have a midlife crisis I'll judge others less who are going through the same thing, but I doubt I'll make it that far so I'll focus on the present. It's called a gift for a reason i guess.