My first long Sonamy story. The introduction is based on my song Rainy Day's Blues (you can find it at my stories).
Vertigo by Anna Marcelli Palmer
-SONIC'S POV.-
She left.
I stood there, in the middle of the road, motionless, my eyeballs following her petite figure until she couldn't be seen anymore. I saw her walk away, farther and farther from me. She soon became a faint shadow in the horizon, before the familiar shape just faded out, leaving me numb, a poignant gap throbbing inside my entrails.
My mind had always been screaming, for fear of this perspective coming true. And now-how ironic!-there I was, my right arm raised before me in a pathetic way as if it could reach the girl that only five minutes before was in front of me, her presence filling my senses, loud laughter ruthlessly showing off the true meaning of vividness. Nothing of it all was left to me anymore. Just a memory, like it had all been a dream, and the lonesome company of the raindrops plopping on my face.
Water made my vision vague and the universe seem so empty; even emptier than my heart.
My body was freezing cold, a shiver running through my spine. My fur was damp. Turning a green pair of crying eyes to face the boundless sky, arms were brought together to wrap my torso in an attempt not to feel so lonely anymore. The feeling was unbearable; was it remorse? Was it the realization that I would never sink in those green pools again? As if it mattered...
Suddenly, there she was; right there, as if she had always done so. Gentle eyes staring into mine, velvet lips moved. No sound echoed, though. Only the shape of her mouth gave a slight indication of the phrase, yet not clear; it could have been an "I love you", but had also seemed like a complaining "How could you?" at the same time. In stark madness I screamed her name, and automatically felt intrigued looks of passersby penetrating me from everywhere, like laser beams. Taking a swift glance at them, a gasp escaped my mouth.
I had been talking to nobody.
Perfect. Just FUCKIN' PERFECT! Now you will go insane, as well...Shoot.
Tears. More tears. A loud groan.
Stop.
Men don't cry.
Sigh.
Boy, just...pull yourself together! You'll forget about her, she wasn't so great a deal, after all. Don't do this to yourself, you can't break, you can't break, you can't...you...you just...
A deafening cry came from inside the throat, uttering words that made no sense. Falling to my knees, I buried my clenched fist into the mud with all of my power and thrust gloved fingers deep into the watery substance.
To hell, for all I care...I CAN'T be the harsh, easygoing hero anymore...it is damn hard to smile at every barrier that comes to your way...I have beset so many fights, so many losses. I...I did my best...but not her! NOT HER!
Oh, God.
If you exist, I beg you. Heck, I have never actually implored anyone. But maybe, just maybe...perhaps I deserve a favor. I'm a good person, helpful, fearless, and all. You..you c-can't take her as well. She was just meant to be happy...I should be, too, for I prevented her from messing up with the definition of hazard, but somehow...who knows what came over m-
"MOVE FROM THE MIDDLE OF THE ROAD ALREADY, YOU ASSHOLE!!"
Thoughts and prayers waned in a flash. Reality was still there, moving on as always. An elderly lady waiting for the bus to arrive, tightly wrapped in a thick, warm cloth, was still finding interest in my somewhat ridiculous figure. As for my self, I found out the guy was still next to the indignant driver, whose right hand was currently popping out of the window, gesturing enthusiastically.
Lost, alone, and soaking wet, I compromised in a silent nod and automatically stepped back to let him pass. A trembling hand made its way through my quills, then veered to sweep a certain liquid from a pair of vacant eyes. Those, now clean and dry, rolled up to meet the clouds. Rain had stopped.
Life always has a merciless inclination to move on...whatever happens.
* * *
The streets were now desolate and a deadly silence seemed to wrap them gracefully. The night sky was now clean and ornamented with billions of luminous stars showing me a path I wasn't quite sure where it ended up to; I followed whatsoever.
In the graceless depths of the city, a tree stood, solitary, proud, its leafs rustling along with the wind's music. It was, perhaps, the only witness of the scene.
A sad smile.
Light substitutes dark, Station Square is gradually brought to life once again. People will start going to work shortly, struggling to catch the bus, be at the office in time, following this modern, vertiginous rhythm. Every single soul in this place, but me; for I am just the wind, always the wind.
Music comes to the ears from somewhere afar, melancholic and beautiful. Images of the past run through my head. Her smile. Her dress. Her voice.
The sun rises while I, wading reluctantly over streams of watery mud, disappear into the vastness of the horizon...
She left.
Amy Rose does not exist.
Not in my life.
Not anymore.