Alienation

You can just imagine how well that answer went over. No, they didn't get what I meant. To them, my answer was off-the-cuff, a complete non-sequitur. Bunnie and Dulcy decided that I was too distraught to answer questions and insisted I find a doctor, but a different doctor, and not Doctor Quack, who I had…well…startled.

They brought me to Amy instead; she was full-time Freedom Fighter and part-time counsellor. I don't think I was being a particularly cooperative patient, but at least I didn't make an attempt on her life. Sally's friends cajoled me to swallow some pills to calm my fraying nerves. I don't remember much about their prying attempts in my drug-induced haze, only that their questions were stonewalled with either cold stony silence or a string of nonsensical responses that only made sense to me at the time.

Meanwhile, Doctor Quack had made Tails ingest a dangerously large quantity of painkillers to relieve his pain. All this was occurring while I sat in mildly drug-induced shock. I didn't eat anything for the rest of the day; how could I? They tried to make me, but the memory of my morning panic was too fresh and too painful for me to maintain an appetite. While I refused all solid foods, I did consume a copious amount of stale instant coffee; it tasted sandy and gritty, but it kept me going.

Doctor Quack, in spite of the earlier choking incident, wanted me to stay at the clinic overnight for observation; Bunnie and Dulcy both offered to let me stay at their own homes overnight as well. They only had the best intentions; merely wanting to keep an eye on me to make sure that I, or rather Sally, was okay; I rejected all of their offers. I was probably being pretty rude to all of Sally's friends, but I honestly do not recall. If I had, they didn't mention it or bring up my behaviour. So, I guess it wasn't too bad.

In any case, I mumbled any excuse I could to placate them -to assure them I was okay- before leaving them and returning home to my familiar hut where it sat like a timid mouse beneath the sprawling boughs of an ancient oak. I didn't want to be looked after. I didn't want kindness, forgiveness, or well-wishes. I just wanted to be alone ... and I got it.

Before I knew it, it was night-time. A pitch-black curtain draped over the sky, broken only by the moon, round as an exquisitely formed pearl. I had managed to waste an entire day. I can't tell you how upset that makes me feel now. The first day I was truly alive, wasted. Yes, I am bitter. Why shouldn't I be? An entire day wasted because of a moment of carelessness.

I began to pace, my nerves too jittery from the caffeine coursing through my veins to stay still. Sally's hut was as spare and immaculate as a monk's cell; a sharp contrast to my own dishevelled appearance. That is until my eyes fell upon a pile of junk splayed out over the surface of my nightstand.

I shrieked.

Frantically, I scrambled to NICOLE's desiccated form. I pawed under the bed and over every fibre of carpet; until I had gathered-up every loose component and laid them out on my nightstand in some semblance of order. Sally could describe herself as many things: from Freedom fighter to Princess-in-exile, but she was no mechanic.

As a rule of thumb, I could generally use any of Sally's pre-existing skills. However, my attempts at using those she didn't already possess were clumsy and probably served only to cause further damage. In the end, I gave up after failing even to elicit so much as a flicker from the now inert computer, now as useful as a paperweight, before unceremoniously dumping what remained of NICOLE into a wastepaper bin. I spent an inordinate amount of time staring at the pile of junk. It felt odd, Sally certainly didn't think of NICOLE as a mere tool. She would have felt a loss of a close friend and ally whom would provide words of wisdom and counsel when needed.

Instead of feeling any pang of loss I felt liberated, somehow invigorated by NICOLE`s demise; as though I would be a better person without her constant judgments. I laughed while staring at her broken remains. I laughed all the way to the bathroom. I even laughed as I watched Sally's stupid face staring back at me in the mirror. Then I screamed, and smashed my mirror to pieces with a ceramic pitcher. Glass shards flew everywhere, and fell onto the sink and all over the bathroom floor. Then I curled up into fetal position amid the pile of broken glass shards and began to sob.

Sally was no stranger to despair. One time, her elder bother Elias was injured in a combat training session with the royal guard. She saw him, lying in a hospital bed with tubes reaching through his nostrils and wired to dozens of large medical machines. In Sally's young imagination they were torture devices, filled with blinking dials, diodes and incomprehensible displays. The adults around her assured her that everything would be okay, but even at her tender age, she was old enough to know that adults often lied to spare the feelings of children. She saw her brother, Elias, hurt, and possibly about to die. Sally had cried then and did so for hours on end. It took her mother, Queen Alicia, to finally calm her down. Sally`s mother gave her an impromptu lesson on Mobian biology; explaining to a young Sally how her brother Elias wasn't hurt as badly as she thought and how her brother would be nursed to health.

I remember that childhood event as clearly as she did. I remembered as though I was there, a silent observer behind her eyes. I had to make a conscious effort to remind myself that, in spite of all I knew, Alicia was never my mother any more than Elias was my brother. It's a difficult thought to stomach. The pain and anguish I felt left me curled up on the bottom of Sally's bathroom floor, but my present experience was nothing like the way Sally had felt in that hospital room.

It was at once both more personal and impersonal. I felt intense self-loathing for the hurt I had inflicted on Tails, but it felt much different than what Sally would have felt. I felt like I had hurt an acquaintance, someone whom I barely knew at all, and that distant feeling. That distance from Sally's personal relationship with Tails was what felt the worst; I felt that I was betraying that memory, that feeling. I knew that it was because I was not who I should be. I was coming apart, Sally would have dealt with guilt much better. She would have gone into a neurotic breakdown, but after that, she would have tried to make amends. She would have bribed Tails with all the sticky treats he could wolf down his throat and all the toys she could scavenge. Hugs would be given and all would be alright.

I started at the mosaic arrangement of glass on the floor which caught Sally's haunted expression.

Was I possessed? Was I going crazy? I looked for a sign, some indicator to confirm or refute my speculation. There was nothing visible on my face of course. At least, nothing that I could observe, nor has there been any thus far. As far as I know, I was here one day and one day Sally wasn't. "I'm not who I should be," I told my reflection after a pregnant pause. I stared expectantly, almost as though I were expecting an actual response. "But if I'm not who I should be, then who am I?".

As mentioned before, I still don't have an answer, but that was the moment where I had to make a few decisions. The first of many that let me to this moment. Firstly, I resolved to discover just what sort of person I am, and what my true origins were. Secondly, I swore to do everything within my power to locate the true Sally Acorn; although I prioritized the former over the latter. Lastly, I resolved to keep the truth hidden from all of her friends for as long as I could. I think I'm acting rationally. I'm doing my best to figure everything out and leave open the possibility for her return.

Maybe everything would have been a lot easier if I told them about what happened. No, that would have been a foolish idea; no one would have believed me. At best, they would think their leader had snapped from the strain and they would scrutinize me closely. At worst, I would wind up being locked away in a padded cell for the foreseeable future.

Facing me was the monumental task of figuring out what to do next. In spite of my lack of physical activity, I was exhausted. My arms hung limply on my sides like wet ropes and I was panting like a dog. So, returning to the warm embrace of my bed was definitely an option.

However, my stomach growled to remind me I had not eaten in over a day. I could see if there were any leftovers, or I could deal with my hunger in the morning, but I didn't want a late-night snack and I didn't want to procrastinate on my personal resolutions all the way into tomorrow. I had to get NICOLE fixed, get some answers and hopefully find some hot food, but not necessarily in that order. So, I set off to find Rotor, Knothole's resident handyman. If anyone knew how to fix NICOLE, and be discrete, it had to be him. Hopefully, he would still be up at this hour.

Knothole stood silent, in sharp contrast to the hubbub of the day. Songbirds whose melodious twitting had carried far and wide into the crisp air while tendrils of daylight had swept through their homes were now safely sequestered away in their nests, away from prying eyes. The sole exception was the nocturnal night owls who prowled the night skies, their long, cruel and wickedly sharp talons bringing sudden death to the mice scurrying below their domain.

On the ground, more minuscule forms of life roamed about. Countless hordes of ants swept through the forest floor, searching for the smallest morsel of food; their forms illuminated by fireflies whose natural bioluminescence had in less enlightened times been mistaken for the will-o'-the-wisp; the tricksters of legend meant to tempt children into wandering the Great Forests un-chaperoned.

Eventually, I dragged myself to the riverside outside my home, propping my elbows on the wooden rail overlooking a softly bubbling brook, a small part of the river which ran beneath the bridge, serving as the sole natural barrier between Knothole and the wild expanses beyond.

Mesmerized by the way the light reflected off the surface, I gaze upwards. Observing the clear expanse of stars which shimmered like an array of polished and cut diamonds arrayed across the sky. It was almost as though the treasury of heaven had been mischievously torn asunder by a sun deity, affording mere mortals a glimpse at the magnificence of the heavens.

I found my mind wandering as Sally would often do in moments of quiet solitude. Whenever she found herself not being tickled pink by Antoine's ongoing aggrandizing efforts; Listening with rapt attention as Rotor Walrus explained his latest invention or tweaks to improve the livelihoods of the people under her care; Butting her head figuratively with that of the self-proclaimed hero of Mobius; Basking in the innocent and affectionate personality of Tails as he talked in excitement of how he would one day be every bit a hero of his idolized older brother… Tails… I sniffed at the thought.

Had the audible growl from my belly not reminded me of my far more pressing quest for fuel, I would almost certainly have lingered there, wallowing in self-pity.

Now the next bit is probably either boring or painful to listen to, so I'll go through it quickly as I can before... no wait someone is coming. I've got to go. I'll be back as soon as I can.