"I hate to break it to you," you said, as you sat down on one of those round, circular leather chairs. "But…you're sick."
Sick with what?
I'm physically healthy, I don't believe that.
I'm fit. I can run faster than you can ever imagine that your legs can take you. I can jump higher than your legs can lift. I can hear better, I can smell better. What you're saying isn't true. A flat-out lie that you probably made up so you can prescribe me medication.
"Well, that's what I wanted to talk to you about…"
I don't think me being unsure of everyone is an illness. As far as I'm concerned, you're the illness. You're infecting me with your lies, your half-truths, and the mask you're putting on is so plastic that it's making me sick.
Stop.
Stop it right now.
You're making me sick.
I swiftly grabbed his board. I didn't want more of his germs. His putrid propaganda that he was telling me that I was ill and I needed to be prescribed with something that I knew was going to be a ticking time bomb. That's what all the medicines are. They're bombs that tick away your entire life, and if you do something the government doesn't want you to do, they make you explode. You explode, with puddles of blood everywhere, staining everything and your organs stretched out as far as the eye could see. I wasn't going to stand for this. I wanted him away from me.
Don't give me medicine.
It'll make me sick.
You're the virus.
You're the sickness.
You're hired by the government to put me on a leash like a dog.
I wanted to bash him over the head with the board. I wanted him to be knocked out, and I could escape from here. Just run. Run to my heart's content. Never have to hear what these guys had to say that I was sick.
There was a lot of static in my head. I heard the same noise that I hear whenever I turned on a channel that had no signal. I could visualize the many black and white dots, millions of them, gathering in my head and then, suddenly, it was like I was changing the channel. I saw images of my future, being put away to jail, becoming a prisoner of the government. I would be all over the news if I did this to the doctor. Public Enemy #1 Takes Down Doctor, Escapes and is Bound to Create Havoc in City. Then there would be my mug shot, and the newspaper would have a phone number to alert authorities if they've ever seen me.
All because I killed someone before. I killed many people before. I was known to be some kind of Angel of Death, because I heard that every step I took, people died. And I took hundreds, thousands of steps. Hundreds and thousands of people have died, simply because I moved. I wanted to stay still, but people began to tell me that I couldn't spend my life laying still, not even wanting to blink, afraid that it was going to set off a bomb somewhere. They convinced me to move, but I'm still afraid of taking steps I don't need to take. Sometimes I count them.
No, I couldn't take this doctor down. It was too much of a risk. I had the chart in my hands, ready to smash it on his head, but I knew it would be too risky.
"Sonic? Is something the matter? Why did you take my chart away from me?"
Please, Doc. Don't take me away. Whatever you do, don't take me away. I have to take care of a kid, I saved a few lands before, remember all that? You probably don't because they're far away places, but please. Don't take me away.
I didn't want to cry in front of him. I wanted to somewhat, but I didn't want to show him that I was at his mercy.
"Take the medicine you're prescribed and see me again in a month. Then we'll decide if you need to go somewhere, okay?"