Sonic

I could remember playing Sonic the Hedgehog as a child, years ago. I could still remember how popular he use to be, within these childhood memories I still hold onto. I even remember having a doll of Sonic, remembering holding on tight to that plush as I would sleep soundly at night.

But, that was years ago. I can't find myself to play the new versions of Sonic these days. A bit too much of them in so little time. Well, twenty years of Sonic, but, it still feels to repetitive these days in the gaming world. These days, games with shooting and death seems cool to play, so, I had converted into the actions packed games. Sonic was becoming a distant memory of what was a childhood playground to me.

Still, who could forget the famous blue hedgehog? A distinct look like his would never leave the mind.

I grew up into a teenage guy that was into playing shooting games. I spent most of my lazy days just sitting back and playing the new video games that were full of anticipation in the game world. I was making a collection of these action packed video games, almost having about a closet full of them.

It wasn't long until I had gone through my closet to find a video game, when something soft fell and bounced off my head. I looked down to my side, and saw a familiar doll face looking back at me. It was the Sonic doll.

I picked him up in my hands and felt those fond childhood memories run through my palms, as his familiar stitched smirk shined in a dim happy light at me. I had almost felt my heart flutter, as I examined the doll once more. The doll had become somehow of a rag doll form. His fabric was becoming thin with age, and the cotton fibers were slightly exposed through opened aging stitch strings that came apart.

I couldn't think of putting him back in the closet. He looked pathetic in this state.

In my arm wrapped close to my chest, I walked out my closet and went to my desk to find my sewing kit in one of the drawers. I remember being lucky to have bought some blue sewing string a few days ago, that I was suppose to use for a torn shirt I accidentally ripped. At least it would be put into better use for the now-rag doll.

-- -- -- -- -- --

After stitching up my old friend, I had also thrown him into the wash and dry to get rid of the mothball smell of my closet he had been enclosed in for, what, ten years. I polished his hard, tea-color eyes and kept him with me

Every time I played a video game, that Sonic ragdoll was in my lap, also sitting and facing the flickering television screen that exposed action video games. He became a good luck charm in my arms, whenever I had him around to play a video game. When I was not carrying him around, I had always set him on my side table by my bed, leaning against a short lamp, behind my alarm clock.

Every time I picked up the doll, I still feel the assurance of his courage in me. I still feel happy about it.

He was out of that dark closet for a good year.

And then, one night, I had gone to bed on a school night. I was sleeping soundly, falling down into my dreams. I was ready to have another one of those dreams everyone forgets about in the daytime, I suppose.

But this time, it was different.

I had found myself in a void, where there were no walls or ceiling. I felt my feet on a solid ground, like it was dirt. I couldn't tell where I was, though. It didn't smell like the outdoors, nor was there any wind in this still air. I walked forward, with my hands out in front of me, as I stared ahead into emptiness. I was scared to feel something in front of me, but at the same time, I needed some sort of guide through this void. Where was I?

I didn't know how long I was walking. It was scary to walk through the dark. I didn't understand what was going on. This dream felt real, even though every dream is suppose to feel like light-aired movements, through flickering scenes of a confusing situation. I felt my feet on solid ground, which made no sense. I still felt no air against my skin, though. It felt like the oxygen had been sucked out of this world, but, I could still feel trapped air in my lungs. I was still breathing.

As I took a few more steps, I heard something behind me.

"Forgive."

A quick whisper hissed at the back of my neck. I could actually feel that air of someone's voice speaking at my neck. I felt shivers run straight down my spine. I didn't want to turn, because I was too frightened now. I pulled my hands to my chest, now fearful of something out of this void grabbing at my outstretched arms. I just kept walking forward, not wanting to turn around.

Even if I felt something close to my back, reflecting every footstep I made. I could almost feel something ready to touch my back and grip tight on my shirt, or just attack me right there. Should I turn and confront this? Or, should I just keep walking in this endless loop? I wanted to choose fast.

I chose to turn and confront this fear.

Something was right in my face... staring back with giant, silver eyes.

I jumped back in startlement, landing down on the solid, black floor, and looked up where those eyes were.

Where those dialated eyes were before, they were gone now.

"Forget." Another whisper hissed in my ear. That same feeling of a breath hit my ear, and I pulled myself up to my feet and started running forward into nothingness. I didn't care where I went. I was so scared.

"I want to forget, too." A girl's voice chimed out in a giddy attitude.

"It'd be best to just forget." Another voice spoke, but in a rough and lower tone.

These voices sounded familiar, but, I couldn't even remember who they were!

I put my hands over my ears and started yelling, "Make it stop! Make it stop!"

"Why do you get to have a say?" A hand reached out and gripped the back of my hair, and threw me down to the ground, hard on my back. "You shouldn't get to forget. We should!" The voices of something familiar kept pounding down on my faded memories. I couldn't understand who was there.

I suddenly felt a sharp kick into my stomach. I coughed out a mouthful of saliva, and curled up into a ball. I held my stomach, shaking. I kept feeling more hits onto my body. The worst feeling was that same kick, but it shot at the back of my head, right at point. I was ready to black out from that hit. I was dizzy, seeing blur, as I tried to pull myself up on my feet once again. More hits to my body pummeled me down as I just couldn't take anymore.

I just curled up in a ball again, and put my arms over my head. Was I being bullied, or punished? I wanted to know what I did, but, now I was just too damaged to speak. I cried now, as I never did in a year. I had almost forgotten how hard it felt to feel so much at once.

Finally, I felt a fist slam down onto the side of my face. It slammed down on me so hard, I had felt some teeth in my head crackle, and my gums began to bleed in sharp pain. I screamed in agony, blocking the side of my head and felt my teeth crooked by a large amount. My gums were bleeding in sensitive pain. I was screaming more.

My curling scream must have woke something in the darkness. I felt a light shining on my face. I opened my tightly closed eyes, and saw a white-gloved hand out-stretch towards me.

In a split second, I was suddenly standing up on my feet.

I was in a different place.

I saw a light before me, from afar. Before my feet was a long bridge of gold, rusted iron. The walls at my sides were dimmed black from where I stood. There was something ahead, right in front of that bright, white light.

I started walking, feeling no fear of this light. I hear the clank of my feet sounding on the bridge, as the light began to grow brighter from every step. The black walls began to reveal giant gears on the hollowed-out walls. I was astonished, in fascination, of these working gears. They were functioning perfecting together, working together into making something run in that unknown place.

The soft sounds of the giant gears were singing in harmony. I liked seeing them work, because they were alive on their own mechanics. Some gears were shining silver, and then there was some gold and rusted, but still had that same beauty it once was before. Some smoke from metal pipes above in the high ceiling spewed out quietly, from now and then. I was quietly listening, as I walked towards the light.

A few more steps, and I saw that the bright light was of a giant, bay window. The panes were missing, and the bars of the bay were ripped off, and revealing the bright light into the geared room. It wasn't so scary to see this light, now that I knew what it was from. Just a beautifully broken window.

Before the window was a long desk, sitting vertical and against the short wall that held the broken bay window. Small gears and tools decorated the wooden desk, as I could hear someone working on something. There was a tall, grayish chair in front of the desk, with the sound of someone working.

I grabbed the head of the chair and spun it slowly around to see who was there.

Before me was something I thought was a dream messing with my mind. Before me was a life-size, moving, breathing, lively Sonic the Hedgehog.

He was everything I remember about his profile I read in one of his game booklets. He was a life-size four-feet character, with long, bouncy spiky hair. Blue and bright. His eyes were large, and his green colored sights were glowing with something nostalgic. He had his round body, his long limbs, his white, perfect gloves that worked on a small machine. He even had those red shoes with the gold buckles! It was him!

"..." I didn't know what to say. I was happy suddenly, seeing my childhood hero right before me, moving and breathing. He was so real, I felt like fainting. I must have be dreaming.

There, in my shock, Sonic's head lifted up, and his eyes looked at me. The top of his head had green goggles on them, and his neck had a mechanical necklace of what appeared to be a mobile air conditioner. He smiled at me, with that signature smirk of his. His eyes lifted from that sad, nostalgic emotion to something hopeful. He didn't say anything.

I... guess he didn't need to.

Sonic looked at me for a while, and I looked at him. Could I reach out to him? I wondered...

I lifted my hand - but then, at the same time, Sonic lifted his hand as well. I didn't move. But he did.

He moved his hand onto my wrist, and grabbed it around his palm. With just a touch of his hand, I felt something familiar. I felt memories. I felt the same emotion, whenever I had took that Sonic doll into my hands back home. He had the exact same feeling, like that doll.

I then felt tears form in my eyes. These memories were of when I was a child, and when I was holding Sonic close to my heart. I swoop down to Sonic and embraced him tightly, crying loudly on his small shoulder. I felt his gloved-hand rest on top of my head, and his other wrap over my back.

"It's okay. You're brave." He told me, in that familiar voice I knew was his, from every video game I played.

I woke up, in my bed. Morning sunlight shone through my curtain covered window, and my alarm clock read eight o' clock in the morning.

I sat up in bed and looked for my Sonic doll on the side stand.

He wasn't there. He was there the night before. No one would have came into my room to take him. I had no siblings, and I always locked my bedroom door for privacy, as a teenager I was. But, he wasn't there.

But all was there was his doll shoe. It was a hollowed shoe, that looked like it could be used for dress up on a doll. I actually had no clue his shoes could be removed. Inside the shoe, I saw a folded piece of paper. It looked ragged and aged. How long had it been there?

I pulled out the paper and began unfolding it. When I opened up the note, another folded note fell out.

I read the first one.

To my brave little rapscallion. Please keep on with your life, and always stay positive. Your proud mother.'

Mother... I remember her so well. When I was seven, she had actually died of cancer. She gave me the Sonic doll as the last gift, while she was laying in her death bed in the hospital. I cried and held on tight to that doll, I remember, as she was dying every day by her tumor. When she finally died, I couldn't hold on to the doll any longer. It made me sad. I hid him away in my closet, for... years.

That second note, I picked it up. It was a purple-colored note, but, it looked new.

I opened it up, and I read it.

You suffer a lot of pain,
Witnessing you mother's death in vain.
You cried and cried,
And I wanted to make you try
To forget those sad moments in your life,
As I tried to become your comfort geist.

I wanted you to know you're okay,
Even if it were your closest one going away.
You kept strong,
And for so long,
You fought that sadness,
While I watched in the closet darkness.

I don't blame you for keeping me away.
I was still there, always there to stay.
When you cried some nights in your bed,
I would be there to stroke your hair and pet your head.
You must have known I was there,
Because you felt better after a struggle to not feel scared.
I smiled, because you were brave.

Nothing is wrong with crying.
Everything is growing.
And, so are you.
And so am I.

I settle in my geared dream,
Relaxing for the passing, waiting for me.
I fear nothing,
Nor do I blame you for anything,
Because you made my life so
Happy.

Where did Sonic go, I wondered. He said he was passing, so... I guess he did...

But I made him smile again...

The Doll My Mom Gave To Me