The sun was setting, light breaking through the window.
Look at that sun, he said to himself. Look at it shine so brightly, unlike you.
His face was shining, a little. His quills shimmering in the darkness, a sapphire gem glinting as the sun greeted him. Everything was quiet in his house, and all the lights were shut off. People wondered why he always had the lights shut off. I like the dark, he thought. I like the dark because I can think better in it. He tried to keep his mind busy, his restless mind that was racing so quickly that even the blue blur couldn't keep up with it. He was racing with the conversation he had in his head, and he felt himself losing. He could barely even reach the finish line before he had to take deep breaths.
How are you? How are you on this fine, beautiful afternoon you're not taking advantage of? Why the long face? Why aren't you showing it to the world?
Fine, fine.
You're lying. You can't even keep up with me.
No, I'm not. I'm still fast and quick. Even you know that.
Why would you lie to me? To yourself? Lying is only going to make the situation worse you know.
Because I'm not lying. I would never lie to myself. You know that too.
He sat on the couch swiftly, about to pour some sound in the room by using his TV. But he kind of liked the quiet. He liked the darkness. He liked being alone. So much was going on that he needed to rest. But yet no matter how much he would lie on his bed, he couldn't sleep. He knew he shouldn't be worried about a single thing. Or maybe he just had insomnia today. He hated the whole notion of sleeping anyways. Losing track of time while you're in another world, and you forget about who you are and you're in this strange land and once you get comfortable you wake up and you're here in this dismal land called his home again. He hated it. So he stayed up.
His adopted son, Miles Prower, was fast asleep. He said he was a little tired from doing his homework, so he decided to take a nap. He wished he was like him. A child again. He would have no worries at all. He would only have to worry about school, and he thought the whole social system in schools was so silly he would only laugh it off and he would do his work and get straight As or Bs. But he would get to experience the wonders of such things as sunsets and the wonders of toys and technology and new information all over again. It was like he experienced those things so much that he didn't cared. He felt like he was dead inside as he gazed at this sun that seemed to smile at him. This sun was sinking right down in the horizon outside his window. The sky was mostly a great glaring ruby, fractured apart with these violets, tangerine, and golden ribbons. It was such a beautiful sight he recognized. His son would gape at it with wonder, but he would just sit there as if it was the most boring thing in his life.
He went in the bathroom and stared in the mirror at his tired face. His fur was still shiny cobalt, but his green eyes were dull and lifeless. He smiled briefly, to reassure himself that he was still okay, then resumed frowning as soon as his eyes no longer glimpsed at the mirror. He turned on the faucet, the sink holding cold, freezing water that numbed him when he touched it. He dabbed his hands inside it for a while, desiring to feel something that reminded him he wasn't dead. He then smeared it all over his face, to keep himself alert. He was awake, but tired, as he knew he hasn't slept for days. He thought that if he was going to stay up, he might as well try to keep himself up, even if his eyes were weary and inside he was crying and clamoring to feel the warmth of his bed again. As soon as he took another look in the mirror, drying his face with a rough towel, he saw something. He thought he was hallucinating. He's been hallucinating for the past few weeks.
It wasn't him, but this large, dark, and hairy thing that had a smirking mouth with jowls full of jagged teeth. He thought he heard this thing emit a deep-throated growl as well. It had jade eyes as well, as they seemed to spark in his vision, telling him that he was his next victim out of so many he killed. He wanted him dead, now.
The sink was overflowing. Cold water began to spread itself throughout the bathroom and the floor outside, making the carpet soaking wet. The floor seemed to turn translucent with all this water, but he couldn't pay attention. He could only stare at this beast's eyes, wondering what it wanted, why it chose him as the next victim, and what the hell it really was.
His son was awakened to the sound of rushing water. He could see the small golden light beneath his door, knowing his father was messing around in the bathroom again, doing God knows what. He turned in his bed, attempting to ignore the sound.
His eyes were shifting from the left then to the right, looking smaller than usual. He immediately grabbed the handle and turned the faucet off. He tried to joke with himself. Hey Sonic, trying to make your bathroom an aquarium? Ha! But he couldn't smile. Not after this. Not ever. This was serious. His hallucinations caused him to act strange again. You can't be crazy, Sonic. You can't be crazy…
He stared at the bathroom floor, the light reflecting off the water. He could no longer see whatever was in the mirror a few moments ago. The hallucination disappeared. "Shit," he whispered, as his head jerked sideways as he suddenly heard a knock on the door. Someone was here. He knew how crazy he was.
He opened it ajar; breathing a sigh of relief as he found out it was just his son. "Dad, what are you doing?" he meekly asked, his eyes barely opened.
"Umm…" He thought of an excuse. "I was taking a bath. Don't worry about it. Go back to bed."
"Did you make the tub overflow or something? The floor is wet."
"Yeah, I guess I got too carried away." His eyes no longer looked down at his son, but at something else. Miles wasn't sure of what. He always looked distant, with him looking at other things than to the person he was talking to.
"Dad, are you nervous or something? You've got to be if you allowed the tub to overflow."
"I said you should go back to bed," he yawned. Miles noticed around his eyes were red. He was probably not sleeping again.
"Dad, why won't you answer my question?" He was pacing to his bedroom, looking agitated. His son followed him, wanting an answer to his seemingly harmless question.
"Come on dad, why are you nervous? You can tell me!"
He slammed the bedroom door in front of him, nearly slamming his nose in it.
"Dad, why do you act this way?" he mumbled as he trudged back to his room, defeated. His father just didn't want to talk to him. And it would stay that way. Miles knew he shouldn't bother him with such meaningless questions, especially if his father was up for what seemed to be days.
He wondered why he was like this. Was his father sick? He must've had something serious for him to act this way. But he didn't show any signs of sickness. Maybe something was wrong with his brain. Something that made him this nervous. Something that made him forget so many things in this house. It's been a long time since it's been cleaned.
He needed a doctor. But his father would refuse to see one. And now, he could only sleep on it. He heard the sound of his father locking the door.
There was a swift click as he locked the door.. He just didn't want anyone in, not even his son. No one should bother him. He had to get to sleep now, to go on an adventure in a Godforsaken land and get more nightmares. Sleeping was possibly the worst invention that was made.
His back landed on the bed, his eyes weary and red. He wanted to try to get to bed and sleep, however. It was hopeless staying up. His mind was slowing down now. He felt himself getting weaker and sadder. Usually when he felt this way he just slept it off. Maybe he would forget his troubles if he went to that Godforsaken land too. So he had to sleep. He had to at least try.
His eyes turned to the right as he picked up a snarl from across the room.