Outcast
A Sonic the Hedgehog Fanfiction by Amy 'Kixxy' Lawson
sailor_vanilla@hotmail.com
It's not like I'm an alien.
But that's how I'm treated and looked at, isn't it? Like an alien, or
some mysterious... THING that nobody has ever seen. Just look at all the
other echnida I pass on the street. They glare, they cower in fear, they
pull their children back, and sometimes they even spit on my face. They
run and they fear. Like I'm something that's going to kill them. Who
*doesn't* act like that?
I guess I don't make friends that easily, anyway. Knuckles, just about
the only one who *talks* to me now, started out our 'friendship' by
attacking me. Or maybe I attacked him first. What's the difference? I'm
not sure if he even trusts me, or if he acts like I'm his friend because
he feels sorry for me. Me being such an outcast, and all.
And take Vector. To tell you the truth, he attacked me first... I simply
fought back... and suddenly, *I'm* the enemy. I'm not sure why, but I
generated an immediate and profound dislike to the crocodile, and have
no need or wish to stop the feeling. It's mutual, anyway.
It's not fair. A robotic part on your dreadlock here, a partially
robotic limb there, and everyone reels away from you. Is that really
all right? Is that really fine?
It's gotten to the point where I don't want to show my face in public.
Why? Everything I am and do is criticized. They don't approve of the way I
dress... they don't approve of the way I act... they certainly don't
approve of my looks... and they don't approve of me hanging out with
Knuckles and his friends.
Why me? I almost wish I had remained in the Dark Legion. I wasn't an
equal there... Kragok and Lien-Da seemed to despise me... yet I found
comfort there. They didn't shove me aside because I thought the
decision to renounce technology wasn't such a hot idea, or because I had
a fully robotic dreadlock on my left side. They looked and felt the
same; and it was like I finally belonged somewhere.
But then fate took another turn and I was stranded, and meeting
face-to-face with the Guardian... alone. Needless to say, either my
priorities changed or I was really woozy from both of my battles. I
switched sides. I'm not even sure what possessed me to drop everything
then and there, yet something just... happened.
Opportunity knocked, and the legendary Dimitri returned me to the Dark
Legion, where I had spent most of my memories. But... something was
wrong... and something was strange. It was like I didn't belong there
anymore. The friends I used to have, well, *weren't*. Nothing was like
what I remembered. Nothing was like it used to be. But it wasn't them...
it was me. I felt wrong. And I didn't know what I would do.
So the move from Legionnare to ex-Legionnare the second time around was
my choice, and not the work of fate's cunning tricks. But unfortunately,
Constable Remington jailed me for treason. I guess my connections with
Knuckles allowed not only my freedom, but my membership to the Chatoix.
All seemed to be right with the world.
But now, more than ever, I was "a freak". How the people look at me now!
Like I'm nothing but dirt, or someone that's going to rush them with a
gun and kill them on the street! I feel like everyone wants to kill me,
first. When me and Knuckles go for a walk or whatever, poor Knuckles gets
eyes turned strangely and sympathetically at him, like he's baby-sitting
me... or like I've brainwashed him with more of that Dark Legion
treachery. I can't be trusted, my arm's robotic. Gasp! I'd hate to be in
Mobotropolis, or Knothole, or wherever Knuckles told me the Robotosized
Mobians live now.
Why can't everyone just leave me alone? Why won't anyone just let me be
myself, and look at me how I *really* am - someone who's not going to
kill anyone, but rather, someone who just really needs someone to talk
to, and a shoulder to lean on. That's all I want. That's all I ask for.
But whether or not I get it, that's another story.
To all the outcasts on the Floating Island or the entire planet of
Mobius, I feel your pain. You've all been cast aside for one reason or
another, just like myself. You, just like me, must be stranded and hated.
Maybe someday, somewhere, someone will hear me and understand. Maybe
they'll understand how I feel, and try to make friends with me, and
treat me like I really belong.
That's all I need and all that I want.
But aliens don't get that.
And I'm an alien.
A Sonic the Hedgehog Fanfiction by Amy 'Kixxy' Lawson
sailor_vanilla@hotmail.com
It's not like I'm an alien.
But that's how I'm treated and looked at, isn't it? Like an alien, or
some mysterious... THING that nobody has ever seen. Just look at all the
other echnida I pass on the street. They glare, they cower in fear, they
pull their children back, and sometimes they even spit on my face. They
run and they fear. Like I'm something that's going to kill them. Who
*doesn't* act like that?
I guess I don't make friends that easily, anyway. Knuckles, just about
the only one who *talks* to me now, started out our 'friendship' by
attacking me. Or maybe I attacked him first. What's the difference? I'm
not sure if he even trusts me, or if he acts like I'm his friend because
he feels sorry for me. Me being such an outcast, and all.
And take Vector. To tell you the truth, he attacked me first... I simply
fought back... and suddenly, *I'm* the enemy. I'm not sure why, but I
generated an immediate and profound dislike to the crocodile, and have
no need or wish to stop the feeling. It's mutual, anyway.
It's not fair. A robotic part on your dreadlock here, a partially
robotic limb there, and everyone reels away from you. Is that really
all right? Is that really fine?
It's gotten to the point where I don't want to show my face in public.
Why? Everything I am and do is criticized. They don't approve of the way I
dress... they don't approve of the way I act... they certainly don't
approve of my looks... and they don't approve of me hanging out with
Knuckles and his friends.
Why me? I almost wish I had remained in the Dark Legion. I wasn't an
equal there... Kragok and Lien-Da seemed to despise me... yet I found
comfort there. They didn't shove me aside because I thought the
decision to renounce technology wasn't such a hot idea, or because I had
a fully robotic dreadlock on my left side. They looked and felt the
same; and it was like I finally belonged somewhere.
But then fate took another turn and I was stranded, and meeting
face-to-face with the Guardian... alone. Needless to say, either my
priorities changed or I was really woozy from both of my battles. I
switched sides. I'm not even sure what possessed me to drop everything
then and there, yet something just... happened.
Opportunity knocked, and the legendary Dimitri returned me to the Dark
Legion, where I had spent most of my memories. But... something was
wrong... and something was strange. It was like I didn't belong there
anymore. The friends I used to have, well, *weren't*. Nothing was like
what I remembered. Nothing was like it used to be. But it wasn't them...
it was me. I felt wrong. And I didn't know what I would do.
So the move from Legionnare to ex-Legionnare the second time around was
my choice, and not the work of fate's cunning tricks. But unfortunately,
Constable Remington jailed me for treason. I guess my connections with
Knuckles allowed not only my freedom, but my membership to the Chatoix.
All seemed to be right with the world.
But now, more than ever, I was "a freak". How the people look at me now!
Like I'm nothing but dirt, or someone that's going to rush them with a
gun and kill them on the street! I feel like everyone wants to kill me,
first. When me and Knuckles go for a walk or whatever, poor Knuckles gets
eyes turned strangely and sympathetically at him, like he's baby-sitting
me... or like I've brainwashed him with more of that Dark Legion
treachery. I can't be trusted, my arm's robotic. Gasp! I'd hate to be in
Mobotropolis, or Knothole, or wherever Knuckles told me the Robotosized
Mobians live now.
Why can't everyone just leave me alone? Why won't anyone just let me be
myself, and look at me how I *really* am - someone who's not going to
kill anyone, but rather, someone who just really needs someone to talk
to, and a shoulder to lean on. That's all I want. That's all I ask for.
But whether or not I get it, that's another story.
To all the outcasts on the Floating Island or the entire planet of
Mobius, I feel your pain. You've all been cast aside for one reason or
another, just like myself. You, just like me, must be stranded and hated.
Maybe someday, somewhere, someone will hear me and understand. Maybe
they'll understand how I feel, and try to make friends with me, and
treat me like I really belong.
That's all I need and all that I want.
But aliens don't get that.
And I'm an alien.