December 17th

What did I get myself into?

. - + * + - .

Matt and I were in the boarding area at three the next morning. He seemed very eager to get out of Station Square as fast as he could.

"Matt, I need to go the bathroom,"

"Okay, but hurry up!" he barked.

"Relax, we've got an hour until the plane leaves," I explained.

"Just hurry up,"

I rolled my eyes, running out of the waiting area to the nearest bathroom. It was completely empty. Locking myself in a light blue stall, I pulled out my cell phone and dialed Avery's number.

"Amy?" she moaned groggily, "Where are you?"

"At the airport,"

She was wide awake now, "What the hell are you doing in the airport?"

"I'm leaving to Hawaii with Matt,"

"Why?"

A fresh wave of tears flooded me, "I – I can't be in Station S-Square anymore. It h-h-hurts too much,"

"Amy – "

"I need someone to know in case something happens," and I slapped my phone shut. Tears streaming down my face, I unlocked the stall and walked slowly back to the boarding area. Matt's face softened when he saw me. He took me into his arms, rubbing my back gently. I sobbed into his chest. He pressed his lips to my forehead, whispering "It's okay, babe. It's okay,"

The plane landed in San Francisco around nine at night. We took a cab to the docks. I stared out the window, watching the blurry city lights and blaring car horns. It was raining now. Hard. It pounded on the glass, pit-pat, pit-pat.

At 9:30 we arrived at the dock. It was dark outside, and there were only a few boats, not including ours. The old worn floorboards with wet with ocean and rain water, and ropes and trash littered the ground. Sailors called out to each other instructions, beginning to cast off. Matt lugged our suitcases into a small waiting area while I stayed outside in the rain. Shivering, I pulled my coat closer to me. Alana's words rang in my ears. How pathetic. How pathetic. How pathetic

Matt was at the door of the waiting area, a really small building with only a bathroom, calling, "Come on, Ame's, you'll catch a cold out there,"

Ame's. That's what Sonic called me. I shivered again and walked to him. The waiting room was painted white, with one long bench along each wall and a few small plants here and there. It was completely empty. Matt took my hand and sat down on a bench, with me on his lap. He whispered words of encouragement and love in my ears while stroking my damp hair and back.

"It'll get better," he whispered, "I promise,"

I was numb. Unresponsive. Cold and betrayed. Abused. I needed him. Needed Matt to hold me and love me. Needed him to make me forget.

He kissed me. His tongue, tasting of smoke, slid into my tongue and played with mine. I concentrated on trying not to choke or puke and pulled him closer to me, combing my fingers through his brown quills. I felt his hands edge to the hem of my shirt and before I knew it, he was under there, his fingers lifting my bare breasts and playing with my nipples. I pushed him away, "No,"

He pushed back, now pressing me into the wall, "Come on Amy, we've been together for how long? A month perhaps? I've given you everything I have, all my love, and I need something in return." His hand glided up the back of my shirt and began to unclip my bra.

"Matt, I said no!" I pulled his hand out and tried to get a hold of my hammer. He only pressed closer and closer. With a struggle, he managed to get my bra off and it fell to the floor. He kicked it away and slipped off my belt in a mere two seconds.

"Get off!" I screamed. My gloved hand finally clasped around my Piko Piko Hammer. The mallet collided with his face. Matt slammed into the wall with a loud thud. And then he was in front of me, his face red with anger, a purple bruise blooming on his right cheek. His eyes were burning holes in his angry features. I jeered and swung the hammer at him again.

He caught it. A sudden fire lit in his hand, burning my weapon to ashes. I didn't even know he could do that! My breath caught in my throat. My eyes widened in shock and fear.

I ran.

It was almost too dark to see outside now. There weren't any boats in the docks. No more sailors. No one to help me. I ran. Ran for my life.

He was in front of me in a flash. Matt grabbed my in an iron tight grip and pushed me to the floor. I let out an ear - piercing scream!

"Shut up, you stupid bitch!" he slapped me across the face hard. He proceeded with the abuse, sending pain throughout every aching bone in my body. A series of kicks to the spine. A punch in the stomach. A slap to the face.

"Get up," he muttered, gently touching my back with his foot, which was covered in bruises. I whimpered, and my naked body distinctively curled up into a ball.

"I said get up!" he yelled, kicking harder now.

I braced myself for another kick, one that would hopefully knock me out.

And then a blue streak of light flashed across us. A growl. A shout. A scream. I tried to open my eyes against the blood streaming down my head. I lay there, soaked in blood and tears, losing consciousness by trying to fight against it.

"Zack!" Someone shouted.

Sonic. It was Sonic's voice. But who was Zack? I forced my eyes open with a great difficulty, somehow able to see what was going on through the black and red. He stood a few feet away, his face contorted with utter rage. In front of him was Matt, a victorious smirk on his face.

And then he changed. His image wavered and melted in places, tied up and embroidered in others until he wasn't Matt anymore. A black hedgehog with piecing yellow eyes took his place, with dark purple streaks lining his short, skater style quills.

Zack Daggers.