It's been awhile since I put anything up, and because recently I rediscovered that nobody really read my stuff anyhow, I can post what I consider subpar. So, enjoy, faceless reader, and may you find peace in your heart...
Cause I sure as heck can't.
Music will save your soul, or damn it.
The rest is up to you.
He sat in the bar, trying to lose himself in the bitter-tasting drink that lay before him. A legacy of failures burdened his soul, and he was dying in the need to stop feeling. The loss he had suffered was all too great, and there was none left he could even divulge his feelings to. All he had left was his shoes, and he could barely move for the pain that resounded in his heart.
Well, that and the violin; but he hadn't played that in years. He doubted that he even had the skill to play it after all that time. Still, it was worth a shot— he was only half drunk, and he never had stocked up on coin. He'd never needed before.
Calling the barkeep over, he asked about playing a tune for a bit of change to keep drinking. The bartender just shrugged. He didn't care.
Walking up to the stage, he slung the ancient instrument around. He knocked on the mike, and the room went quiet. By way of explanation, he just said that he had a story or two, and wanted a captive audience. He started off with an instrumental, a simple little piece that he'd written many years ago.
By the end, the people were enthralled. They clapped and threw change, asking for an encore. He smiled and nodded.
It was then that disaster struck.
"Hey, ain't you that blue hedgie from the city? I thought you was a hero, and you scamped off!"
He froze, the mere mention of who he had been tearing open the painful memories once more.
"Shut up, you moron! His girl, man, she… The building, man, it…"
"Whoa, sorry, bro. Amy was a good'n. I'm sorry, bro."
His body slumped, Sonic could barely even nod. Everything in him echoed with the torment of loss. All he could hear were screams, and all he could see were broken forms. The towers had collapsed, with Amy inside. She hadn't stood a chance. He remembered her smiling that morning, telling him everything'd be fine, her job was safe.
The crowd was shifting, growing restless. One of them had the nerve to shout up at him.
"Hey! If you're done, get your ass off the stage! Go back to drinkin', pal!"
He stood abruptly, the guy stepping back in shock.
"I will tell you a story, in song and word. Listen and feel, for all you've heard. I will show you pain, I'll show you fear. I'll show you why she isn't still here."
He took up the violin and played. This was no simple ditty, nor did it have the elegance of a composition. This was pure frenzy, a twisting, trailing tune that almost shouted joy, and the chaos of life. Then, it turned into a foreboding melody, implying horrors and unforeseen danger. Finally, it echoed of death, of truths turned to lies and failure. It spoke of endless pain and impossible burdens. It told of a broken soul, a soulmate's absence, and of terrible loneliness. Eternities alone…
The audience, to a man, was in tears. Not one could suppress the sorrow that flowed from the azure hedgie on the stage. By the time he had stopped, they could only cry silently, staring at the violin-laded soul on display.
Sonic walked off the stage, head low on his chest. He tossed money to the barkeep, who gave him more to drink. He nodded, and the bartender acknowledged that he'd be there awhile.
Even when he ran out of money, the man continued to give him the only crutch he had left. Finally, after hours of drinking, he fell into a drunken stupor, lying in a curled heap by the bar. The barkeep shook his head and picked up a phone, dialing a well-known number.
A few minutes later, Shadow stopped by the tavern and picked the snoring hedgehog up. "Thanks, Joe. I know it was hard, but he needed somewhere to go."
"I'd say anytime, but I'd be lying. Don't do that to me, Shads. I nearly passed out when he mentioned the tower. My Janie died, too, y'know."
"Yeah. I know. But your pals and a coupla drinks helped you move on. We're just hoping he can pull through after he's had some time."
"Some advice, mate; He'll never get over it. You have to help him see what's left. His world fucking died, mate. Help him see there're still a few fragments of worth in the hellhole his existence has become."
"Trust me. I know."
"Yeah. I guess you do."
Shadow left, Sonic snoring on his shoulder. The barkeep took out a bottle of single-malt liqueur, looked at it, sighed, and put it back. Some things never change. Some things do.
And some things die.