Hello! I'm sorry I haven't updated in so long, but it was taking be a while to get this scene down. I just needed a break. I feel terrible for letting 'Fear' my other story, die like this, but I'm pretty sure that little story is going down the drain, unless of course someone would be willing to write chapter 13 and save it. Cause I've tried and tried again, and it is not budging, people...

Anyway, I'm far too lazy to respond to reviews, but understand that I love you all! Hugs for all who reviewed chapter two!

Chapter four of "My Life Sucks, The Musical" is also on its way! And look out for the sequel of '10,000 miles' later this spring! Tune in next chapter for a sneak preview!

Sonic had woken up in the middle of the night due to the pain, and had been unable to fall back asleep since. So now he lay on his stomach (lying on his back caused too much pain) and starred into the wooden wall, trying not to cry. It was just that he was unable to shake the feeling of being helpless. He was still debating on whether he should just accept his fate, or bury himself in an illusion, (and possibly go insane) to try and make himself feel better. But Sonic was now unable to hide himself from the ominous conclusion that there was no escape from this horrible lifestyle. The blue hedgehog shuddered at the thought. It was terribly frightening, to think that his life was beyond his control. Back home, Sonic had always been the boss, and had always been able to make the big decisions. There, he had been a significant and important member of society. But here... he was just fifteen hours of labor. He could drop dead this very second and no one would care.

Sonic shook his head- that was a lie. Amy cared about him, and so did his friends back home. But that didn't do him much good. He wanted out, but there was no way out. And even if he did get back home, how would things work for him them, after all this time, in which his friends probably thought he was dead? And what about the others stuck in this awful place, like the red fox he had met at lunch and the young couple that had been dragged apart, just for trying to save each other...

His 'hero' side just screamed to help them, but there was nothing he could do. That made him feel even worse.

What exactly was his life going to be like now, he wondered? Sonic scoffed. Probably like the first five months before it. Painful, dark and oppressed. He moaned quietly, and rested his head on the ground. At first he began to relax, but then his mind wandered once again to Amy. He shouldn't think of her so much, for he might just drive himself into madness with how lonely he was. What he should do is try and befriend someone, but Sonic was far too ashamed. So Sonic let his mind wander into memories of Amy's arms.

He remembered the time spent in the 'market', waiting to be bought.

- Warning, emotional flashback ahead. Have popcorn handy. -

Sonic sat, miserable, on the ground of the crowded, dusty streets. Due to this culture's last chance at preservation of their planet, buildings could no longer be made out of wood or iron, as the production of these were far too costly to the environment. Buildings were now made by clay, stone, and brick, which made the entire area look not unlike a third-world country's vegetable market. Produce, meat, and animal stalls (large ones owned by the nearby farms) bordered the long walkway, but past some of the taller buildings and underneath the fading, orange daylight, sat the slave market. And just as luck would have it, Sonic & Amy were the prize pieces.

Many farmers had come throughout the day to prod and inspect them: to see if they were indeed the healthy and fit specimens they were advertised to be. None had found any glaring faults in either of them, but hadn't the money nor the requirement for more slaves.

From what Sonic had heard, being taken to a small farm was a much more enjoyable experience than working for one of the 'fifteen wonders' as they were called. Sonic scoffed lightly, stirring up the dust that floated in the air before him. There was nothing wonderful about it. It was cold, dark and heartless. But apparently, in the smaller farms, there were actually some people that believed in fair treatment to the furries. It was hard to believe such a thing, what the way these people treated him, that any of the people of this world could be against what their very kin did to him day after day.

He had sat there, in Amy's arms, trying to sleep as she gently ruffled the quills on his back. The sensation usually had an extremely sedative effect on the hedgehog, but as of late, it wasn't working.

"I hate them." He frowned, glaring at the civilians that walked pass them. They thought of Sonic and Amy as nothing but slaves and that infuriated the blue hedgehog beyond words. Amy sighed and patiently stroked his quills, although it was a bit awkward due to the chains that tied all of the advertised slaves to a huge brick wall, to prevent escape. Other factors helped with that goal: mainly the small electric fence and many guards.

"The civilians didn't do this to us, Sonic..." She said. Afterwards, Amy motioned towards the slave driver, whip in hand, who stood menacingly over the slaves. "They did. We can't judge the civilians, or at least not yet." She said.

"And why is that?" He argued, sitting up and pulling out of her embrace. "After all, they're getting by because of what they're doing to us. We don't owe them anything." He returned to his glares, but it cost him dearly as a passing overseer quickly struck him with one of the clubs. It wasn't a very forceful blow, and didn't do much damage, but that didn't stop it from hurting or Sonic from crawling back into Amy's arms. Burying his face, hot with rage, into Amy's fur, and trying to drive back the small tears of frustration, he clung to her fiercely. He wouldn't cry, no- he couldn't. Or at least not anymore. The guards would see it as a sign of weakness. He was Sonic the hedgehog: and heroes didn't cry. Not even if they were turned into slaves. So he had vowed not to allow himself to cry another tear since he and Amy were caught.

But it was getting hard to do. He wanted and expected to be able to burst away from his captors and escape, to overpower them as he had done with Eggman so many times. Already thrice Sonic had tried, failed, and been beaten, afterwards threatened with separation from the other slaves, including Amy. It was then, for the first time, that Sonic had felt truly helpless. Not even when he had been too sick to stand had he felt so powerless, and he hated the feeling beyond measure. He wanted to be strong- to be independent- to be free; but that had all been taken away from him and there was nothing he or Amy could do about it!

Before Sonic could help himself, a few stray tears began to fall from his cheeks. Remembering the promise he had made to himself, he had tried to hide them and brush them away before Amy caught sight of them, but it was already too late.

"Oh, Sonic... " she cooed comfortingly, although their situation made her voice as downcast as Sonic's. "...Sonikku, don't cry, ...come on, you're stronger than this... you'll pull through, don't cry... "

A wave of fear pulsed through Sonic, and he reacted before he could think it over.

"No!" He shouted back to her, tearing his face from her shoulder and pulling out of her arms. Amy sat there, confused; her arms wide open in invitation. Sonic shook his head, and backed away. "Don't say that! Don't say I shouldn't cry! Amy, I have to! I- I need to!" He let his gaze fall to the floor, ashamed. "...I- ...I need to cry, okay? I admit it." He paused to rub away a tear. "I'm sorry I can't be stronger, but- ...but Amy, I... I have to." His voice sunk to a whisper. "It's just too much! Please, hold me... please understand. It's too much, and... I have to cry."

For a few seconds the only sounds were the bustling activity of the market, and the quiet, observant murmurs of the surrounding slaves, and Sonic wondered if Amy had even heard him.

His doubts were blown away when Amy seized him in her arms and kissed him, nearly crushing the young hedgehog with her tight but pleasurable embrace. Sonic was at first surprised, for he didn't understand, and shudders of ecstasy from the kiss still rippled down his spine, dulling his thoughts. He began to relax as his anxiety melted away, when met with Amy's affection. Sonic never did figure how she did that; tranquilize and dominate him so easily. But that didn't matter to him- Amy had him, and wouldn't let him go, and therefore he was safe.

So, after Amy ended the kiss, he allowed himself to break down and cry, like he had needed to for so long. He clutched at her with weakened and shaky arms, too hysteric with sorrow to focus. So he just sobbed, realizing his freedom, his life, and his will had been taken away from him, and so easily... Amy cried as well, but tried to keep a strong front, so Sonic could feel safe. She hugged him securely for a moment, but then gently pried him from her arms, and looked him in the eye.

"Sonikku... " she muttered, wiping away his tears and rubbing some dirt off of his cheek. "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry... You're right. I should never have said that."

Sonic found himself once again being pulled into her arms.

"What I meant was... I don't want you to be sad. I just didn't realize it hurt that much... and I feel terrible for not realizing." Amy carefully ruffled his quills, trying to cheer him up. "Will you ever forgive me?"

The blue hedgehog sniffled and rubbed away the last of his tears, and looked up at her.

"Yeah... "

The two hadn't cried at all for the entire rest of the day. Not because they tried not to, but because they didn't need to. Sonic decided that he didn't have a reason to cry when he had a friend near.

-The emotional flashback is now over. -

After a while, he dug himself back out of the memories, and sat up, although it was rather painful. Immediately afterward, he noiselessly yawned, stretched, and leaned gingerly against the wood, trying not to aggravate his sore and scarred back. True, in a matter of weeks fur would grow over them, and the scars would become invisible, but that did not stop them from hurting in the present time.

He began to drift off into sleep, but before he could close his eyes, and all too familiar thud sounded- the door swung open once again, flooding hall53 with dim, morning light. Afterwards, a booming voice sounded out in the three major languages the all to common phrase.

"Morning shifts begin!"

Mobians, Hedgehogs especially, were highly prized as slaves for three reasons. One; fast reproduction, with three months rather than nine months of pregnancy. This was due to a combination of the species size, (4- 4 1/2 feet) and metabolism, as you will read about later. As disturbing and horrorific as it sounds, due to the shortage in discovery of new colonies, the slaves were now being bred and sold as a major industry. Two; a strong metabolism, able of turning food into energy efficiently and quickly, so they could go longer on less. Theoretically this should mean their bodies required more food, fiber especially, but the farm managed to get around that problem with appetite suppressants served in the lunch food. They could get bye on what they were fed. And Three; Their long life span, and the amount of time in that life span they would be able to work. Executing elderly slaves usually wasn't a problem- they often died a year or two behind the deadline anyway. Deadline had become more literal then ever, and in the worst sense.

Sounds just peachy, eh?

Sonic trudged half-heartedly down the muddy path, wet with last night's heavy rain. His feet felt like they would freeze off, for the thin and hole-filled boots that the farm distributed for muddy days like this no longer worked after years of wear. Every time he took a step it was into a boot full of ice cold mud. Very pleasant indeed. His fingers were cold too, and he could no longer feel his ears, but the combination of all the prementioned horrors were promptly overshadowed by what lay ahead; work. He trudged down the road with a large group of slaves, probably off to some form of construction sight where tyranny and pain awaited. He sighed, and shook his head, water droplets flying everywhere. It was raining slightly, and although it overall added to his misery, it still gave some comfort to his sore back.

He kept walking, when he heard some whispers of a group of slaves off to his left. His curiosity bugged him, but he tried to ignore it, not wanting to join in their punishment for socializing during work hours. However, this proved difficult. It's not like there was anything else interesting on the long, muddy road, lined on either side with fields or fences. He looked off to the horizon, gazing longingly at 'the wall'.

The wall was a 16-mile long, 20foot tall wall of wood and bricks- (wood was allowed as a building material on the farms, since they grew their own trees) And protected by a high-tech barrier, capable of hammering the equivalent of a lightning bolt into your skull. Or at least that's what it had felt like to Sonic after he had attempted to break through the 'force-field'. In case you've paid little attention, Sonic's attempts bore little fruit other than a bad headache and broken spirits.

Inside the wall, the farm was split up into four stations. To the northwest was the mining, where gems were found. The world had little use for metals today, but gems could be used as a unique power source. I'm not a physics expert and don't claim to be, but the unique structure of gems made them available to newly discovered methods solar power. Gems were used a certain way to make the light more focused, so that energy could be more efficiently gathered. Sonic didn't know much about it, though, and didn't plan to do any research. South of the mining were the energy plants, where solar and wind energy was gathered. This fueled the heated homes of the staff and the kitchens. About one tenth of the entire farm was buildings, like Hall53 and the other places this story has taken place. But the remaining land was fields and fields of rice, soy, corn, trees, tomatoes, grain, and thousands of strange bio-engineered foods that Sonic could not pronounce.

Thinking this over, he again heard the escalated whispers of the slaves next to him. Again he tried to tune them out, but he couldn't help overhearing.

"I can't believe we're going to the mines already. This summer went by fast." Said one slave, a light brown lynx with large paws. He had no boots- probably because they wouldn't fit his large and well-adapted feet. He didn't sink in the mud like the slaves around him. The person next to him, a musky green lemur, nodded.

"I'm not looking forward to it at all. Rain, snow, cold... and the mines aren't a pick nick themselves."

Sonic nearly stopped in his steps, confused. Mines? They were going to the mines? At first he panicked- the very idea of dark, dirty, and cramped spaces sent shivers up his spine. He could just picture himself coughing, unable to see or move, and stuck in the dark. But then he remembered- Amy. Amy worked at the mines. He prayed as hard as he could to whoever may be listening that she would be there. He needed her!

"Yeah, I know, but during winter we get a two-day break for that religious holiday the overseers talk about." The lynx mentioned. The lemur nodded, agreeing.

"Well, you have a point. It is the only time we ever get a break."

Sonic at first considered adding to the conversation, but decided against it. The only thing he could have done was ask about what he was to expect in the mines, and a part of Sonic already knew. He remembered some movies he had watched back home, about the lives of coal miners in small towns. He pictured it being in the same miserable, insufficient circumstances to the power of ten, after you added the factors of slavery. It was like some form of twisted algebraic expression, who's only purpose was to beat the hope out of you and afterwards eat it for dinner. (Do you ever feel that way about your homework?)

Once again he was stirred from his thoughts as the group of slaves stopped at the crossroads. For the past five months, the group had turned left, or gone straight ahead. But now, the group turned right, and started the lengthy walk to the black, silhouetted hill that was the mines. Sonic shuddered at the sight of them, but allowed himself one ray of hope; Amy was there, or at least he hoped so.

It would be a long day.

A few hours later, Sonic discovered something very important. The lynx was wrong. Very wrong. The mines were awful.

Dirt combined with the moist air and his own sweat to form a strange, clumpy clay that stuck to your skin like oil and at the same time concealed all sharp pointy rocks from your vision. Which meant you stepped on them, and had your foot ache for the next two hours. It's not pleasurable for anything to ache- especially if you're standing on it all day.

The tools that had been distributed to the slaves- pick axes, shovels, and buckets in which to carry and contain discovered ores- were heavy, but they did their job. But Sonic's body wasn't built for this kind of work. His strength lied in aerobic exercise- running, stamina and endurance. But this kind of work wasn't aerobic at all. And so he got exhausted far more quickly.

But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was the fact that the lighting was terrible. He could be digging past mountains of ore and be unable to tell. Twice he had accidentally hit his own foot instead of the wall of rock in front of him, and the cramped space didn't help. Sonic sighed, knowing that at least the 'discipline' wasn't so severe.

Sonic began to understand why the Lynx had thought that the mines were a better place. Because of the poor lighting and cramped conditions, the slaver drivers were less prone to punishing you. Sonic hadn't been hit all day, which left him quite surprised. Every time he had fumbled or made a mistake, it had gone unnoticed. He groaned. The lynx was still wrong, despite these facts. Sonic already hated the mines, and didn't plan on changing his opinion any time soon, for a number of reasons.

However, the work was becoming a bit easier. After Sonic got used to the feel of the pickaxe, it was easier to swing. But this work did make him hungry, at least hungry than he ever had gotten in the fields. This was probably due to the anaerobic nature of the labor.

Sonic attempted to swing the axe down into the rock, but as it connected with the hard stone, a strange clang was heard and something that glittered in the light fell to the ground. Surprised, he hurriedly picked it up, fascinated by it's sheen. The small rock was only about the size of his thumbnail, but its surface was far more reflective than the dirty rocks of the mine. Although colored in dirt, it seemed to be fairly translucent. It was quite beautiful.

Before he could examine it any more, he was caught by surprise by a swift blow to the back of the head. Startled, he fell over, quickly turning to look at his attacker. One of the slave drivers stood over him, raising a club threateningly. The man took a look at the mark on Sonic's shoulder, then barked fiercely:

"Don't waste time! Put that diamond in the crate with the others!" He snapped, turning to walk away.

Sonic sat there, dumfounded, before springing to his feet, and looking at the small rock in his hand. So it was a diamond? It sure didn't look like one. It was pretty, but not that pretty. He shrugged, and walked to the crate, a few feet away from the working slaves, and dropped it amongst almost identical rocks. As he did this, he remembered something Rouge had old him about gems.

"You wouldn't know a gem mine if you saw one. In their rough stage, Gems look about as pretty as muddy quarts. It's after they're cut and shined that they obtain that gorgeous gleam."

He let a small murmur of discovery pass through his lips. Of course, these were gems in their rough stage. He spared a second to gaze down at them. They may look kind of crummy now, but who could imagine that something could appear so beautiful with just a little effort? He turned back to work, wondering how many cases there were in which this was also true. As he swung the pick against the rock once more, a few scenarios came to mind. A painting, for one; it started out as nothing and with just four or five hours on a summer day it became beauty! As a matter of fact, all forms of art worked in the same way. Not that Sonic thought about it, everything became better the more effort was put into it!

He sighed sadly. No, that couldn't be true. If it was, then how come he put so much effort into his work as a slave and was still so miserable? He wondered why this scenario broke the standards of almost every other thing in the world. It was quite depressing.

Catching him off guard, the first whistle of the day sounded, and Sonic allowed himself to sigh in relief- he'd get a few minutes of rest. He rested the pickaxe against the wall of stone next to him, and quietly took the time to observe his surroundings.

The entire surface of the inside of the cave was black. Whether this was the actual color of the rocks, or just a factor of the poor lighting, was not clear to Sonic. He saw the bins of diamonds and ores in their rough stage, and wondered how much it would all be worth back home. Probably a small fortune, he thought to himself. As he continued to look around, he noticed another group of slaves working in a nearby tunnel. He wondered why they weren't taking a break.

They were mostly females, and they didn't seem to be half as exhausted as the Mobians working on Sonic's tunnel. After a few moments of contemplation, Sonic discovered what was going on.

They were the stronger slaves, trained for this kind of work. They had been in the mines all year round. How awful! ...Staring at them, he remembered... Amy did that kind of work! The odds were that she was over there!

Due to the crowding of the slaves, he couldn't see whether or not Amy was there. He stood up, trying to get a better view. If the fates were cruel- then she wouldn't be there, and he was wasting his time. But he couldn't help himself from wondering. He stood there for a few minutes, loosing hope, when suddenly a harsh voice came from his right.

"What are you doing? Either save your energy or get back to work- no socializing!" Snapped the guard. Sonic restrained a glare and began to sit down, when suddenly; he saw a flash of pink over in the direction of the female slaves. Shocked, he leapt to his feet. There it was again! Was it Amy? ...There was only one way to find out.

"I thought I told you to sit down!" Threatened the guard, moving towards Sonic, whip in hand. The blue hedgehog glared: he wasn't about to let that happen again. He considered his options, and took off running in the direction that the flash of pink had gone. The overseer shouted and tried to chase after him, but even in the closed space Sonic could outrun him. He stormed down the tunnels and past resting groups of slaves, until he came to a turn. He stopped for a second, looking down the two tunnels. Which way could Amy of gone? As he again looked to his right, he saw a flash of pink once again, and ran towards it.

If it was Amy, then Sonic could be happy again. He could slip, unnoticed into her group, spend the day (and lunch) with her, and avoid punishment. Sonic needed to see her, desperately. It had been far too long, and he was terrified that he was starting to forget. The first two months without her had nearly driven him crazy- and the three after than were intolerable. Sonic couldn't take it any more; if he couldn't be held and loved by his Amy once again, he wasn't sure what he would do. He just missed her too much.

Sonic ran for quite some time amongst different groups of slaves, until he came to another crossroad, but still hadn't seen any sight of Amy. After noticing that the other two directions went to dead ends, he bolted around to the left one, and following it as it turned right, to find...

...Nothing.

A rock wall stared Sonic in the face, and he skidded to a halt, loosing his footing and falling into the dirt. He tried to push himself to his feet- but his hand slipped on a rock, and he fell back down, getting a face-full of mud. He quickly scrambled to his feet, standing up and looking around. There was no sign of Amy; or anything in any way pink in this narrow space. He turned around, growing progressively hysteric, and hoping to find some sort of explanation. There was none.

He sunk to his knees, staring blankly at the dirt beneath him. He shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. Amy wasn't here- for all he knew she was dead. There was no one here to dry his tears. There was no one here to hold him, or to be held by him, or to save him. He was alone- and for the first time in five months he realized it. It didn't matter what the other slaves thought of him, if Amy still loved him or even remembered him. His life and all aspects of it were no longer his decision. He was a slave, and the reality of it was finally dawning on him.

He could almost feel the hope drain from him as he began to weep, tears rolling down his cheeks and onto the ground below. In his misery, he did not notice the tiny bird, bright pink in color, which perched itself on the ground before him, curiously hopping just outside his field of vision. As the small bird jumped into view, Sonic jumped away, startled. The tiny canary gave a satisfied chirp and hopped closer to the blue hedgehog. Sonic stared down at the avian in complete shock, tears still stinging his eyes.

The bird's feet were a pale gray, in contrast with its small black eyes and shiny beak. It chirped once more, the sound surprisingly loud, and fluttered up to perch on Sonic's head. Of course he thought to himself. The overseers brought canaries to the mines, to monitor the air quality... Sonic gingerly reached up and plucked the bird off his head, annoying it's screeches of disapproval as he cradled it in his palm. So this is what he had thought was Amy. He again let himself drift into despair, and curled against the stone wall to his left, placing the bird back on the ground.

He could hear the shouts of the slave drivers that were looking for him. They sounded close, and he knew it would only be a matter of time before they caught him again. He winced, just thinking about the already swollen wounds on his back. If he got the same kind of punishment again, he didn't expect to live through it. He sighed shakily, tears finding their way back into his eyes. Maybe that was for the best. He ignored the small canary as it harmlessly tugged on his fingers with its tiny beak. Although most bird bites hurt terribly, this canary seemed to have no intention to cause pain. The bird hopped into his upturned palm, and chirped noisily once again. Even if the bird was cute, Sonic was beginning to wish it would keep quiet.

He placed the bird back on the ground, and pulled further against the stone, burrowing his face into his elbow. Once again he could hear the nearing shouts of the slave drivers, and swiveled his ears against his head to block them out. If he was going to be whipped again, he wanted all the time of peace he could get. This didn't work, however, as memories of the pain sliced their way through Sonic's mind and onto his back, making the wounds burn like crazy.

He heard footsteps coming towards him, and stiffened, waiting to be dragged off to some terrible form of punishment. He again allowed a few tears to drop from his eyes, and pulled further away. The footsteps stopped right in front of him, and instead of a harsh blow from a whip or club, fingers gently rested themselves against Sonic's shoulder, gingerly prying him from the stone wall. He did not know why one of the overseers would bother being so gentle. Perhaps they thought he was dead?

What happened next made his heart skip a beat. A voice rang quietly through his ears. A voice that Sonic hadn't heard in a long time.

"Hey, Sonic."

Well... I do know. I know it's a little crappy, but hey- I promise next chapter will be better. Looking back at it, the entire scene with the mine sucked. I was just in a hurry to get it done- It's been far too long since I've updated.

Well, anyway, I'm sorry the chapter was so short. Next chapter- Sonic escapes! But if so, how? And will he survive life outside the plantation? Will the slaveholders catch him once again? All this and more, inside chapter four! (Golly, that rhymed!)