Shadow
It's suddenly really cold, and my whole body feels numb. I disregard it, eyes dragging open to reveal a void. Darkness. One moment I was in my comfortable bed and now I'm lying in a large, black, empty void. Sitting up, I evaluate my surroundings. Nothing but void.
I'm dreaming
I seem to realize a little too late, though it is a bit strange that a section of my own brain is unfamiliar to me. I stand up. The floor feels weird under my feet, as in it somehow felt both soft and solid at the same time, as if there wasn't really a floor underneath, but instead some kind of force pulling me in place, a force I can't see or comprehend.
Walking forward felt like I'm walking on air. Would I be walking forward in a void? Is forward even a real thing in a void?
Despite my own questions, I keep walking. I don't really know why. Maybe I'll see something if I just keep moving. Do I even want to see anything? I'm going to wake up at some point anyways so what's the point?
Creeeek...
I stop in place, turning around and trying to find the source of the sound. It sounded kind of like a door opening. The longer I searched the seemingly endless void, the more it seemed like I was hearing things. I turned around completely and was met face to face with a large door. It startled me a little, because I was sure that the door hadn't been there before. The door was slightly open and I could see a white light seeping through the crack.
Obviously, I hesitated to walk inside. I've often been accused of having "trust issues" which, while I totally agree, I dislike such labels. I trust what I know.
Once inside, it was... Another void, only, in white this time. This is starting to feel like a joke.
"Shadow."
I zip around to the familiar voice. The door that was previously directly behind me was gone again and in its place, multiple feet behind me, was Maria.
You might think I'd be excited to see her in such a vivid dream like this, but I hate it. The feeling of my stomach dropping is all too familiar and it almost hurts. I don't like remembering her. Sure, I hold her in my heart dearly, but I'm much better off without her swimming in my mind.
She's walking towards me now and I take in a breath, feeling her soft hands against my muzzle as she leans in. I feel like I'm being touched by a goddess in a way, as she places a soft kiss on my forehead.
I've had many dreams like this and you'd think it would get old, but every time I feel like I want to cry. I shut my eyes tightly for a moment, still feeling her hands against my cheeks, stroking them with the tenderness of a mother comforting her child.
When I opened my eyes I was then met with a completely different face. Those all too familiar and cheery emerald spheres stabbed into mine like daggers. It was sonic, of course. He wasn't usually in my dreams, so this was a curious surprise.
His hands rested on my cheeks and... They still felt like Maria's- tender and loving.
I'm starting to get nervous, trying to decipher what this could all mean.
"Shh..."
There was a soft finger over my lip now.
"Stop thinking so hard..."
The finger slipped down my lip, and suddenly sonic disappeared before my eyes. I was left frozen in this godforsaken void, completely alone again. My maw hung open slightly as I stared forward, trying to make sense of this whole situation. Something wet rolled down my face and I held my hand up to my cheek, staring at the warm, clear liquid on my finger.
I'm crying...
It's odd, because I hardly feel like I'm crying, but I am. I wonder if I'm crying in the real world. How silly. That such a thing so small and stupid would make me cry.
I suppose I shouldn't dwell on it, and I slowly turn around to, yet again, be met with a new scene.
Seems like every turn I make is something new. Now it's just me, a table short enough for a child, two tiny chairs and that small rabbit I have grown a bit attached to.
"More tea, mr. Shadow?" She holds up a plastic tea pot, which I'm sure only has bathroom sink water in it.
A surprise, but a welcome one. I wipe my cheek and can't help but smile a bit. Without a word, because it would just feel strange to talk in this realm, I sit on the floor, cross legged, as there's no way I'm sitting in a chair that small.
She hands me a small, pink plastic cup and, of course, I take it politely and sip it. She's the one person I could gladly humor.
"Don't you feel guilty?"
I look up from my "tea" at cream. I'm almost confused, or shocked. Maybe I didn't expect her to ask me something like that, or maybe I just don't really know how to answer it.
Feel guilty? About what?
I only thought of these things, as talking in this surreal dream state would feel as if I'm talking to myself, and I can't have that.
"About the lives you've taken?"
I'm completely still now, realizing I don't have to talk. She can hear my thoughts. She... Is my thoughts... Everything in this strange place came from me, and my own questions or notions.
Do I feel guilty? It's hard to think up an answer. She's staring at me, both of us are completely still. Somehow she looks... Different now, as if parts of her have been slightly fragmented.
I'd be a monster if I didn't feel a little guilty...
Then, everything just started falling. Cream, the table, the chairs, everything had disintegrated as I fell into the void. The longer I fell the darker the things around me had gotten, until eventually everything was completely black again, and I was back where I started.
When the falling stopped I hadn't felt a force, as if I didn't hit anything solid at all, but I was on the floor again. I stood up, scratching my head in confusion as I looked around again.
What's even going on? What's the punchline? I never expected my own brain to play tricks with me like this... But I suppose I can't control everything about my body.
However I'm beginning to feel a little annoyed.
Flick
I squint, shielding my eyes with my hands as a bright white flash almost blinds me completely. My ears flicked back and I slowly took my hands away. There was a large screen in front of me with a still image in it. The subject of the photo was... Sonic. Only this wasn't a photo, at least not one I've ever seen. It was a memory. A memory I had with him.
He wasn't really doing much, just... Smiling at me.. I remember that smile. This was after he and I had gotten into a fight. It wasn't a serious fight, at least, not to me. It seemed more spontaneous in the moment, but afterwards, when we were both exhausted and covered in bruises, he turned to me and smiled.
The memory annoys me. Not because I hate him, but because I've recently been growing to... care about him... It only annoys me because a part of me is constantly just reminding me to never get close to another person ever again. But ever since I met sonic... I don't know, he finds a way to make me care.
I choose to ignore the screen, turning away to be met with another screen, with another memory.
A memory of Maria smiling at me, similar to how sonic had. I get it. I get it, okay? I see a bit of her inside of him. And I hate it.
What's the point of all this? I've already had most of these revelations in the past. I know I've taken lives, I know that I have an odd parasocial relationship with sonic, and that he often reminds me of the woman I've grown to despise remembering. So why would my brain throw these strange subliminal messages at me?
As I turn again, a large row of different memories appeared on both sides of me, creating a long pathway with memories as the walls. Tons of different memories, mostly of sonic, and maria, as if my brain is trying to tell me that these were my most prominent thoughts. Many close up memories from fights I've had with sonic, some serious, some spontaneously playful. I don't even realize I'm walking down the long pathway, admiring these odd memories. Every screen I stare at makes me feel the exact way I felt during the memory. Exhilaration, aggression, uncertainty, and sometimes enjoyment. I can't help but stare at a specific memory I had, and the split second of enjoyment I felt from it always made me sick remembering it. Me and sonic had been arguing, probably over something stupid that I don't remember, and when we had started to get physical, he pushed me against a wall, holding me there with his forearm over my neck and his knee jabbing me in the chest. He just looked so angry. I had never seen him like that, and at the time I was almost afraid of him, but the fear was subsidized by a strange growing arousal in me.
I hardly think sonic had any intentions of actually turning me on, but I still felt somehow violated.
My face is warm and I pass the memory, which was just a still image of sonics aggravated eyes, because that's all I remember seeing in that moment, or rather, it's all I could focus on. I keep walking, using everything in my power to ignore every memory of Maria, only stealing glances at her angelic face. Sure, I miss her like the earth misses an ozone without holes in it, but I'd like to keep my wits in this place. No need to get so emotional over memories I've already played in my head over a million times.
There are other memories, memories of different people, like Rouge, Amy, Cream, Knuckles, and all those other critters I've grown somewhat acquainted with. The memories are pleasant. At least, most of them are, but it seems the more I walk down this pathway, the more violent and uncomfortable they become.
I'm no stranger to hallucinations, I've had my fair share of mental episodes, breakdowns, meltdowns, all sorts of different "downs", so the memories that begin to form before me are at the most, just unsettling to look at.
When I'm actually in good spirits, my mind tends to overreact, maybe because it senses that I'm beginning to let my guard down, or it's trying to remind me not to get close to others. I've had psychological assessments done, many times. Tails would give me multiple diagnoses', which I seemed to be contempt with until I remembered he just happened to be a child prodigy with a big brain, so I decided to get a more professional opinion. Unfortunately the results were the same and I earned an amused "I told you so" from a nine year old.
I'm aware of the psychosis that's induced by my PTSD, but I lack the mental capacity to actually do anything about it. Every "solution" I'm presented with is heavy medication and therapy.
I can't and won't let my mental illness define me, so I refuse. Rouge calls me stubborn. I choose to ignore it.
I've been walking for a solid minute, the screens now showing far more disturbing memories. Memories I have of my own hallucinations. The memories are a bit grainy, even slightly fragmented, as if I don't really remember them correctly.
Hallucinations of my acquaintances faces melting off completely, exposing their bare skulls, memories of Cream running out in the street and being struck by a vehicle, birds falling out of the sky, trees cursing my name, every natural disaster you can imagine happening all at once.
None of these things have ever happened. I have to remind myself of that. But my heart is still starting to race. I'm walking a bit faster, small sounds rising in front of me. The further down this memory hallway I go the more I realize how endless it is. The pictures are moving now. Vivid, active memories, with unpleasant sounds to go with them. Static sounds mixed with disoriented screams.
I stop walking, turning around to see if there might be something different or new. But there is no behind me, it's another screen flashing in my face. All I can do is walk forward, through this casam of broken memories and unnecessarily defined nightmares.
I have to keep my eyes on my shoes as I walk, avoiding any image before me. This void around me is getting darker, the only thing illuminating my path being the blaring screens. The noises are getting louder, the pictures are getting brighter, and my patience is beginning to run out.
I guess my patience and my feet think alike because now I'm rushing down this neverending hallway, seemingly without a destination. It's hard to run with your eyes closed, but it's better than reliving my own memories.
My breath is getting harsher, as I continue to run, and run, and run, but I don't know what I'm running to. All I can hear is agonized screaming and my own labored breathing. My whole body is in panic mode, adrenaline is coursing through my veins like blood, and my chest hurts.
On top of paranoia and anxiety, is anger. I hate this. I hate being so psychologically unwell that I have to torture myself even in my dreams.
"I hate myself."
I didn't say this out loud, but I heard it in my own voice. And I opened my eyes, realizing all the screens had stopped on one single memory and everything was suddenly so silent. of course, it involved sonic. When I actually began to recognize the image, my feet stopped running. I slowed down, stopping completely in front of one of the screens and watching it play over like a gif.
This was probably one of my least favorite memories. I was having a particularly horrible day, which, to be fair, every day feels horrible to me, but this day was objectively awful. I don't even remember why it was so bad, because it felt as if this moment rendered everything before it completely obsolete. That blue hedgehog somehow always knows when I'm in bad spirits, because he will come see me to make it worse. He doesn't make it worse intentionally, in fact, I know his only intention is to help me, but he always makes it worse regardless.
After a good ten minutes of him prodding me, trying to get me to spill my guts- I dislike talking about my feelings, and for whatever reason, he continues to ask me questions- I ended up snapping at him, while simultaneously actually telling him how I felt. It was probably one of my most vulnerable moments. I basically went on a whole rant, yelling at him, insulting him, to which he didn't seem to mind too much, typically. As I basically held my heart out and exposed the most reserved parts of me in such a passionate fashion, I cried. I've never cried in front of anyone before, let alone continued making eye contact with a person while my soul is essentially completely naked. Eventually I ran out of breath, and I ended my rant with those three words.
Though my vision was a bit blurred by my tears, I could see his face. His reaction was almost heartbreaking in a way, forcing me to wonder why I had even gone so ballistic and told him all of that. What was my goal? His eyes squinted, and his bottom lip curled, as if he was about to cry. I saw him swallow thickly, then I turned away, and I didn't look back. I was too embarrassed. Now, The screens only showed him, standing there, that same heartbreaking expression staring back at me, and those words playing over like a broken record.
This is awful. I want to wake up. I was perfectly fine with the notion of locking these memories up in a vault and storing them in the back of my mind for the rest of eternity. My body feels weak, staring at the image, but I can't look away. I force myself to study the lines of sonic's face. Maybe there's some hidden meaning behind all of this. Maybe if I look hard enough I can decipher this weird code my brain has created for me.
"Not everything is a puzzle, shadow."
I turn around, I'm shaking, my mouth is dry and my face is wet with tears that I didn't even realize were leaving my eyes. The screens behind me were gone, and in their place was Rouge. A physical version of her, not a picture or image or memory, but I know I've heard her say such words before. I turned back around to look at the image, deciding she was just an obstacle, trying to distract me from discovering the subliminal meaning of all this. But the memory was gone, of course.
"Why are you so stubborn?"
Shut up. Just shut up. I'm getting sick of the questions. I'm getting sick of every turn being an emotional rollercoaster. I just want to wake up now.
"Well, that's no way to talk to a lady."
You're not even real. I understand that she can hear my thoughts, so I don't have to open my mouth. To me, I'm only talking to myself, which makes me feel like I should be in a mental institution. Come to think of it, I probably should be.
My back is turned to her, or rather, my perception of her, I guess.
"I'm just as real as you."
My nose twitched and I turned around again, not surprised to find she had walked closer to me. I suppose I can understand what she means by that. She's me, or rather, her perception comes from me, everything she says are my own thoughts, my own questions and notions. I can perceive myself through her, because she is me.
It feels like I'm beginning to spiral the more I think about it until I snap back to reality, or... This wouldn't really be reality would it? Regardless, I'm now focused on this shape that my brain has conjured up just to lecture me.
Can you tell me what this all means? Is it even important or am I just fixating on my own mental anguish?
"Why should I tell you?"
Now, that sounded a lot more like me. I'm actually talking to myself. Rouge wouldn't say that, but I would, because, as she had pointed out previously, I'm stubborn.
I'm almost angry, but why would I expect my brain to just say it outright?
You won't tell me because you don't know either.
I wave her away, walking into the void again, if only just to ignore her, or, myself. This is a puzzle. I'll admit a really messed up one, and fuck you, brain, for putting me through this. I'm sure some would consider this a spiritual journey or something, which in their mind registers as their idea of hallucinations and what it would be like to ingest psychedelics, but in my mind that registers as a mission. A mission of self revelation, to uncover some deep truth within myself, which is a lot harder than it sounds. I glanced over my shoulder, finding that rouge had disappeared, and again, it was just me, the void, and my thoughts.
All I feel is anger. I want to wake up. It sounds cliche, but I actually pinched myself. It didn't work, and I felt stupid for even trying it.
I'm just walking through the void, directionless. I don't want to find anything anymore, and If I have to walk around for hours in this emptiness, just waiting for the sound of my alarm, so be it. Frankly, all of that has left me kind of overwhelmed. I don't have the energy to have a truthful insight about myself, or I'd rather direct my energy somewhere useful, so I'll care another day.
In the distance, much to my enragement and curiosity, was a white light, that only grew the closer I got to it. I stopped walking, thinking that maybe if I didn't engage, it would go away. I turned around, only to find another light growing closer. I spun around, realizing the light had begun to close around me despite my efforts to avoid it.
I stand in place, staring forward. I'm almost afraid to move, let alone turn around and face whatever my mind is going to throw my way. Could I just stand here for hours? Completely still? Who knows what disturbing images my brain has in store for me now?
"Hey."
I don't even move, or react. My body is in full panic mode. I know the voice, and I know the tone. I swallow thickly.
"Hey, look at me."
I don't want to. I forget he can hear my thoughts for a moment. I then shut my eyes tightly.
"Yes you do."
His voice was much louder now, as if he had gotten closer to me.
"I wouldn't be a very good fantasy if you didn't."
Wow, I'm not very funny am I? I keep my eyes closed, feeling a hand on my cheek now.
"Look at me..."
His voice was softer, as if he was trying to coax me into it. I suppose it's not that hard to manipulate yourself after all, because I almost opened my eyes. But, alas, I'm stubborn.
"Look at me."
My spite earned his fingers pinching my face as his grip tightened, seemingly out of annoyance, judging by his more demanding tone.
"Look at me!"
His grip is becoming slightly painful and I grimace. My ears fold back from his voice. Out of instinct, I grab his wrist, pulling it from my face. My teeth are gritted and I turn my head to the side, still holding his wrist, suspended in the air by my hand.
"Please look at me, shadow!"
why should I? I don't see anything good coming from any of this, but simultaneously I don't see anything good coming from ignoring it either, which leaves me conflicted and annoyed. I'd rather not humor Sonics ego, not even in this place.
"I want to see your eyes..."
God damn it... I swallowed nervously, my face suddenly grew warmer at his soft voice. I'm embarrassed because I'm flattered. He doesn't speak to me in such a romantic context in reality, so all of this is purely fantasy. This was a version of him that had frequently crossed my mind, usually without my consent. I guess I could call him an intrusive thought, but nevertheless he would probably be the only pleasant thing in this place.
With a sigh, I cave, my eyes opening and turning to meet his gaze. This version of sonic always has this look in his eyes, like he's longing for something. I've only ever seen that look on him once, but I stuck with it because It looks kind of good on him...
He hummed, staring into my eyes. I hadn't even realized my grip on his wrist loosened and his hand was back against my cheek. He wasn't wearing gloves, shoes or socks, which for him is like being completely naked.
I don't necessarily imagine him like this for sexual purposes, but because it feels like he owes me a bit of vulnerability, and putting him in a spot where he's naked on the outside is almost as good as him being naked on the inside. Sometimes my mind does drift towards more lewd images of him, which I've only ever entertained once. I always feel guilty when I have thoughts like that, but I've grown to learn that I can't exactly control my thoughts, which is pretty obvious by my brain's unsettling demonstration.
I blink, and sonic is still in front of me when I open my eyes, his thumb gently stroking my cheek. It's comforting in a way. However I always feel slightly intimidated in his presence, even with him completely naked in front of me, I feel like the exposed one for some reason. He's more emotionally superior, as in, he's confident. He understands himself and because of that he doesn't feel shame. If I were to see him naked in reality, he'd make a joke of it, he wouldn't be embarrassed at all, he'd probably even put on a show.
I suppose that's what he's longing for; Attention, but he's great at hiding it in the real world. Here, he begs for it.
Is that really how I see him? What I've reduced him to? Just an attention whore? Am I an awful person?
Questions are barely even legible anymore, I can't even focus on a single thought, I'm completely zoning out. All I can fathom are his eyes, staring into mine, as if he's searching for something.
"What would make you happy, shadow?"
I'm caught off guard by this question. I've never thought of it and I don't even know how to answer it. What would make me happy? I don't desire much, most of my days are spent trying to enjoy the calm silence before my delusions start to torment me. I suppose I'm a bit lonely, but I have a difficult time imagining myself in a romantic relationship with anyone. Maybe because I've never had one, or because I don't want one.
Why do you want to know?
Sonic blinked at me, which was probably the first time he had actually blinked since I started looking at him. "I want nothing more than to see you smile..." His soft voice echoed through my ears.
The fur on my neck stands up and I feel warm. This sentence felt too real, because I know those are sonics intentions in the real world. I feel guilty now. I've always treated him poorly, yet he still runs back to me when I'm upset. Even when I hurt him with my words or my fists, he still looks at me the same way the next day. I look at him differently with every development we have. It ties into what I said about him being more emotionally intelligent. He probably already understands what our relationship really is, but intentionally leaves me out of it. Probably because I'm too unstable to act civilly with him. But he always forgives me. He's so quick to forgive me and I can't even forgive myself. His efforts are persistent, and oftentimes he can persuade me into sharing an intimate and tense moment. My maw hung open, I felt as if I should say something.
His finger was placed over my lips gently. "Don't talk," He hushed me, "would you be happier by yourself?"
I'm surprised that my first thought was a resounding 'No', but it's true. Being alone has its moments, but being alone wouldn't exist without other people. As in, you can't have dark without light, in a philosophical sense. Right now I don't want to be alone. I could care less who I was with, but sonic's tender voice always lures me in.
"Then why do you always push me away?"
I don't know. You make me question myself.
"And what's wrong with that?"
I don't want to get to know myself.
"Because you're afraid?"
... No... Maybe, I don't know. The more I learn about myself the more I hate myself.
"And that makes you angry, doesn't it?" The spots on my cheeks where his hands were resting started to feel numb. "Being stuck with a person you hate 24/7?"
How could it not?
"Then why don't you do something about it instead of complaining?" His tone was flatter now, and his expression seemed more serious. "Face your problems, stop feeling sorry for yourself and expecting others to do the same."
I don't respond. I can't.
"When multiple people are trying to help you- rouge, Amy, tails, myself- you can't turn around and convince yourself it's because we hate you." His tone is flat, but calm at the same time as if he's not saying this to scare me off, but because he really wants it to resonate with me. "We want to help you, and you want help, but you never accept it. Do you enjoy being miserable, or are you too weak to fathom the idea of bettering yourself?"
I'm not weak. Oh God, is that how this is coming across? Suddenly I'm pathetic because I can't accept help?
"You could accomplish so much more if you would just... Talk to people. Tell them how you feel, tell them what you need, I promise they won't ridicule you or see you as lesser for admitting you have problems. We all have problems, but we know that we always have a shoulder to lean on, because we can ask for help. The emotional inadequacy you feel you hold below me can vanish, and you'll never have to have a dream like this again."
How could my own mind only come up with an actual answer when it came from sonic? Is this what I imagine he would say to me? Would he say this to me? It's like someone else is speaking to me, and I'm not talking to myself. As if sonic has actually entered my dream somehow. That's childish of me to think of. This isn't a fantasy, it's a dream. But now that I think about it, can't a dream be a fantasy? And can a fantasy be a dream? Isn't daydreaming similar to fantasizing? Should actual dreaming be considered a fantasy?
Okay, all these questions are making my head hurt.
The blue hedgehog is so patient with me, standing there, waiting, probably entertaining himself by listening to my mind's slow descent into madness.
I realize my mind was deflecting from what he actually said, completely changing the subject almost immediately, like I don't want to internalize what he said. So I take a moment. I inhale, then exhale, trying to calm myself.
I try to decide who I would go to for help. Rouge was my first thought. While she tends to be reckless and borderline untrustworthy at times, I doubt she would turn me down if I mentioned it. She's recently developed a bit of a hero complex so this would probably be the best time, before people ultimately get annoyed with her constantly bragging about what a good person she is. I can give her that 15 seconds of fame, it's a small price to pay, and if anything, her dignity is more on the line because of the way she's been acting. Eventually someone will humble her.
If I could trust anyone besides her, it would most likely be sonic. He's incredibly empathetic and determined. If I came to him for help he would see it as a mission. He already kind of does, so he'd try to help me the quickest. After this experience it's kind of hard to see him betraying me. I'd probably feel kind of vulnerable for a while, but I might be able to get past it. After all, what am I always so on guard for? Why are my mind and body always in panic mode? I suppose if I get help I can get some answers to my questions.
"You'll wake up soon..." Sonics voice felt kind of far away. "Can I get a kiss before you leave?"
My face was completely numb, but it felt good. I almost didn't register what he said but I still closed my eyes as he leaned in, accepting his offer without even thinking. I was starting to register this as a fantasy rather than a dream at this point. When his lips were inches from mine, I held a finger over his mouth, my eyes still closed.
"Do you think I'm a good person?"
This was the first thought I had actually vocalized since this all started. He pulled my finger from his mouth, quickly closing the gap between us and stealing my lips. For the first time I was contempt with indulging in such a juvenile concept. I was okay with the fact that it felt good when he kissed me. The kiss didn't last long. He pulled away, staring into my eyes and rubbing my cheek.
"Don't cry." I didn't even realize I was. "If you were a bad person you wouldn't care if I thought you were good or not."
I stare into his eyes, finding that my vision is starting to blur as I fade between sleep and wake. I can no longer see sonic, or feel him. All I can see now is my alarm, blinking 6:00 am on the dot. It felt like I just recovered from an acid trip. I've never done psychedelic drugs before, so I could be completely wrong. It could also be a bit of a fever dream, which seems more likely because I've woken up drenched in sweat. My body is remarkably good at keeping me healthy and it usually only takes a day for sickness to pass me. Maybe this dream was the feeling of the sickness finally being released through my sweat.
... And apparently my sickness wasn't the only thing that was released, which is embarrassing.
I couldn't sleep after that, so I set an alarm for 10, and spent the remaining 4 hours distracting myself. I cleaned my sheets, made coffee, read a book, and attempted to eat something, but I don't usually have much of an appetite. Once 10 comes around, I'll be going to Rouge's house. I have a few things I need to get off my chest.
End
(Okay damn, if you made it this far, I'm so sorry you had to read this, I'm hopped up on Adderall rn and I've been writing this literally all day. Autism be damned. Anyways I don't know why I made this. I like shadow, he's cool 😎.)