Mobotropolis supermax prison.

What the fuck? I only ran over somebody.

God, what hypocrites.

God, what a hypocrite I am.

Okay. Deep breath. Stare directly into the bed above me.

No, fuck that. Look out the barred window. Say hi to station square.

1 month in here. 1 month in here. Not even a month ad I'm losin it

God damnit.

Fucking prosecutors and fucking sonic and fucking cars fucking laws fucking everything.

Fucking fuck. I only have myself to be mad at.

Waking hour. 1 AM, mind you. But it's always fucking dark in this fucking side of the fucking prison, can't tell, no clock. Fucking no clock and I fucking hate it

Fuck.

I go and use the toilet, because I can't think straight. Pulling back foreskin, crawling inside my self to expel the toxins. To make myself better, temporary. It's useless because they'll always be urine, there's always something going to be there. Eject and eject all I want. It's an infinity puzzle. Why don't I just let them take over me, because they'll never leave me alone anyway?

But I try.

"you're so prettttty today…."

Who was that? I turn around I don't see anything. Just dark. This is when I just quit.

I give up. Fucking fuck. Forget myself. There is no me.

"You're so pretty…"

Who is that?

"come closer. Close so I can feel you…"

God fucking damnit.

"So I can hear you…"

I just sit down in the corner. Hug my knees to my chest and just sit there.

"Come closer. Or I will."

"Fuck off!" I say. A far cry some the honorable person the media sells me as. And less than one month in prison.

I feel a hand brush against my skin. My face. I jerk back and bang my head against the wall. I fall out, cursing, and I still can't see a damn thing.

"Release me,"

Oh my god, what the fuck?

"Release me. Temporary, but for this one moment, I'm free."

I don't believe what's happening.

My center. oh ahahahaa, man what? fuckfuckfuckufckufkcufkfuckfuclfkfuckuifuckf

My center is gone. My center is chewed up and penetrated and ruined. Like froma little tapeworm. A little tapeworm. Some parasite that no matter how many times I piss, no matter. No matter what.

forget my center. this is not happening to .e

God damnit.

I start swinging. I catch something. And I break something. My hand feels moist. I'm disgusted. I'm disgusted. I hate this.

Another swing. Another hit. Feet scrabble against tarmac. I hear doors slamming. I hear a guard running this way, too.

God damnit. God damnit god damnit god damnit.

Hate this place.

Put myself here.

"The surgery was a success, Mr. Hedgehog."

Yes.

That's all I have to say. No joy or anything. I'm better now but I'm never gonna be the same.

Because of the side of the road.

On the bright side, my leg hurts less. Doc says I should be able walk on crutches next week. Nevermind the wheelchair, I'm fine hopping like a fucking maniac- Just get me on my feet, doc!

And then I grin. And it hurts me, from the inside. You don't run back from smashing your leg in. Don't think I'll ever probably be running again.

Visitors. Yes, oh god. Interaction. I haven't socialized in probably weeks. Hope I still remember how to talk…

"Sonic!"

Tails is here first. I know he's been paining to see me. Wanting to see me. I can't even sit up in time to greet him.

"Heya, Miles." I say, putting on my best façade. I look up, and there's the rest of everyone. Amy. Sally. Antoine and Bunnie and everyone.

I feel kind of special.

These people won't care about whether I can run 0-to-60 in three seconds.

…the public does, though.