He reached his destination, at 1:50 PM, just in time to see Amy at the carnival. The clouds became ash gray and lumpy, hearing the distant rumbling of thunder, while he heard the roar of the ocean waves near the coast. The ocean was black, jutting along the knives the rocks made along the shore. It looked opulent, as if he was staring at the deep shell of an onyx. He could hear the seagulls crying, possibly scavenging whatever carnival food they could find along the shore. He put his bike near the racks (once again not locking it in place), walking to the entrance as the wind blew on him, chilling him.

Amy Rose stuck out like a sore thumb. She was a pink hedgehog wearing a red dress and shoes, Sonic thinking that she looked similar to Jane Jetson from The Jetsons. She was beaming at him, crossing her legs and trying to look her hardest to look charming and endearing, but it only made Sonic want to groan even more. However, he knew it would be rude to do it in her presence.

"Hello, my darling Sonic!" He saw her shivering a little. Amy was too caught up to look nice today just for one hour and she forgot to wear a coat, he thought.

"Yeah. Hi," he quickly sounded, still sounding uninterested. "Where are we off to first? Remember, I'm only here for an hour, so you might as well make the best of it."

"I know, sweetie! That's why we're going to my favorite places in the carnival: the funhouse and the ferris wheel! Come on, Sonic, let's hurry!"

He was glad that she wasn't going to take her to a Tunnel of Love as she grabbed his hand firmly and rushed to the funhouse that was near them. If there was one in this carnival, he would puke.

Amy kept chattering away about her life as they went to the funhouse and little tidbits about how interesting she thought the mirrors were. Sonic wasn't paying attention, only nodding when she asked him a question or sounding off a "uh-huh" at the end of her statements. He tuned her out, as if he was a radio that was turning to another station. He was tuning into his own thoughts and memories.

He didn't understand the appeal of funhouses. There was an underlying sense of creepiness in them. He actually hated carnivals, but only accepted Amy's offer because he didn't want to tell her he simply didn't want to go because they "creeped him out". The haunting music that would play in the ferry-go-round, while the horses bobbed up and down, with their ceramic eyes staring at him with fear unceasingly…the lights would dance around him, a brilliant display of swiveling glows while the horses would seem to cry help me to him.

Help me, Sonic. I ran around in circles for years. I can't go anywhere else. I'm stuck to this post. Let me escape. Let me escape to the pastures out of this hellish place.

The horses always looked like they were frozen in fear, as if they were suddenly turned to stone when the man, the Carnival Man, took them away and made them his slaves. Their mouths were open, as if they were stopped mid-whinny. They were crying out to him, as they stared at him with those worried, saddened cemented eyes.

Clowns. Clowns looked like hideous monsters as they were advertised all over the carnival. Smiling wickedly at him, with their blue and red face paint that masked a deep and hidden terror. They showed a certain childishness to him, but yet the bright colors and oversized clothes did not comfort him. They terrified him. The violent red was the color of blood, blood they probably thirsted for in his body. Blue was the color of sorrow, as they thrived and were fed on it. White was only a mask. They tried to show themselves as innocent and pure, but there was only evil.

The breeze blew in his quills as he gazed back at the ferry-go-round. The horses kept crying to him, the music kept playing By the Sea in discordant, jarring notes, as the lights shone when the skies were black and the carnival became nearly empty. Many children left, with their mom and dad in their hands, reminiscing about their great day in the carnival.

Where was she? Where was his mama?

The music began to surround him. It was beginning to taunt him. The music laughed in his face, in his misery, and the tears began to run down his face. Where was she? Where was Mommy?

He saw something that was coming around the carousel. It was riding on a black stallion, that looked crudely painted, but yet seemed to cry for help to him as its blood red scarred mouth was jutted open. Pink, malformed hands. Bruised eyes. No mouth. A cord that bled ran down the stallion, thick coats of blood staining the chipped paint. A malformed creature looked at him, as it rode on the carousel, those purple eyes that gazed at him with deep contempt, displaying its fingerless nubs at him.

Mommy got rid of you, like she got rid of me! You are me now! We are so much alike! Forgotten, cold, dead…

The nubs were holding onto the bloody cord, still dripping with the red fluid as it began to drop to his body and stained his fur. He felt his throat tightening. It began to constrict him, his mouth spitting out copious amounts of blood. He felt his larynx being squeezed so tightly that he thought he would lose his voice, his body becoming crushed by this cord, the hideous thing still giving him that dead, dead glare. You're gone now, Sonic. You're gone. Mommy abandoned us both. We're both dead and forgotten. We are neither in hell or heaven. We are simply forgotten, eroded in time. A fate worse than hell.

The sound of crackling glass and the feeling of being stabbed was all he could sense. His other senses came to him, like a light bulb gathering electricity when a switch was flipped on. The first thing he noticed when he awoke was blood dabbing his fingers and silver glass that surrounded him. He could see two reflections, two horrified expressions that both belonged to him and Amy Rose.

"Sonic…w-what happened? One minute you were fine, then suddenly…you were screaming for your 'Mama' to take you home. What happened, Sonic?"

He thought when he looked at the fragmented shards of the mirror, glinting like the half moon in the sky, he could see his face when he was a child, begging him to find the answer to Amy's seemingly harmless question.

"I don't know, Amy. I…would like to know that too."

His hands were bandaged, the white strips seeping with some blood. He began to realize how much they hurt. Every time he formed a fist with his hands he felt so much pain that he wished that Amy wouldn't tell him to hold something.

The personnel recognized what Sonic did and asked him to leave the funhouse and out of the carnival. He felt some shame, as he ruined Amy's day and was probably never allowed back inside, simply because…something he didn't even exactly know what it was happened to him. He noticed Amy wasn't angry, however. She was actually the one who bandaged his fingers, while she had a concerned look on her face that looked as if she was on the verge of tears.

They were both standing by the pier, watching the water quiver and the seagulls fight for a leftover corn dog in the distance. Or at least, Amy was, just to get her mind off of what happened. Sonic could only gaze at his bloody fingers, looking guilty.

They were silent for a few moments, the thought of having a magical loving moment on the pier not even on Amy's mind. Her eyes were still fixated on the seagulls, as one of them grabbed the corn dog with its beak while the other two were fighting over it, flying as fast as he could to quickly devour his prize.

"I'm sorry, Amy."

Her eyes were torn away from the seagull's dilemma back to Sonic, who was still looking at his fingers. He then shut his eyes briefly while he swallowed, looking for the right words to say.

"I'm sorry about this, Amy. I actually wanted you to have a good time at the carnival and…this happened. I didn't mean to do that at all. I thought this was over and done with."

"What's over and done with?" she asked, as she tried to hold Sonic's hand. He flinched and pulled it away.

"It's a long story, and it's very hard for me to tell you. Look, I'm sorry about what happened. If you want, I can make up for it. We can go to an expensive restaurant and you can order whatever you want, and I'll pay. I didn't mean…"

She interrupted him. "Sonic, you don't have to do that. Just as long as you didn't mean it that's all I wanted to know. Just…the only thing I want you to do is to talk to somebody about this and get better. I think there's some kind of underlying issue that you haven't dealt with and you really need to talk to someone about it."

That's the thing, though, he sulked silently. I've dealt with it for so many years and it suddenly came back! I thought I was done with this by now!

"You don't have to make up for what happened, Sonic. It's not your fault. I want you to rest easy for a while and take care of yourself, and we'll go out some other time. That's all I ask of you. Just take care of yourself."

He looked at his watch. It was now 2:40. He had to leave.

"Alright, Amy," he said, as he began to walk towards the bike racks. "I guess I'll…take a day off tomorrow. Something like that. Maybe this happened because I barely got any sleep." He remembered that he was only able to sleep for two hours last night. It's been a long time since he had a good night's rest. It's been so long that he actually didn't remember.

He stepped on his bike, the thunder muttering and the rain beginning to drizzle. "I'll see you later, Amy. Call me if you want."

He cycled out of her distance as the rain began to pelt her, making her dress and hair soggy. She stood there watching him for a while until she finally decided to head back to her apartment.

His hands stung when he held on the handlebars, but not enough for him to consider being late. He arrived at the Institute at 2:55, five minutes early. He thought a little on how the poppies weren't going to be thirsty for a long time as the rain began to beat the earth harder and faster when he went inside.

Once again, no elevators. He hated the elevators. He arrived at Dr. Gerald's office, the white room with a large black leather seat and many books and toys lined up on the bookcases, with the obligatory green plant and fountain that cascaded on his desk, making a tinkling sound that made his patients calm down a little.

"You're early, Sonic." He noticed his bloody fingers right away. "Your hands are bandaged. What happened during your errands?"

"I took a girl named Amy at the seaside carnival and…something happened when I was in the funhouse. I suddenly thought I was a child again, staring at that carousel…and this thing…" He tremor a little at the very thought of it. "It was choking me, and before I realized it, I broke one of the funhouse mirrors and my fingers were all bloody. I got kicked out and I basically ruined her day. She told me that I should take it easy for the next few days, but…"

"Sonic, from the sounds of it, you had a flashback, from that memory when you were a child. We've talked about it before, correct?"

He nodded, while he tinkered with one of the toys on his shelf. For some reason, it gave him an uneasy feeling, but he couldn't stand sitting perfectly still. "Yeah. I realized when I was at the funhouse, I had that memory when I was eight years old. When my mother took me to a carnival and…I cried for her, but she never came back for me. She abandoned me. And…for many years, I thought no one wanted me and I was worthless. Just a piece of trash waiting to be thrown away."

He nodded his head slowly. "It sounds like something we still need to work on. You may be recovering Sonic, but you aren't done healing. You need to be patient with the process before jumping ahead to places you know will probably be a trigger to that memory."

Sonic was dabbling himself with a Fisher-Price toddler toy, a humanoid airplane with rudders as wings connected to smaller round planes with the people with the square faces and the corks for noses. He kept pulling it back and forth. "But I thought I was done with this. I thought I dealt with it. I just want to move on with my life and not even think about it."

Dr. Gerald cleared his throat. "I know you don't like waiting for things to happen Sonic, but you need to take some time on this. Many patients I see with this same condition, with these bad memories and flashbacks, need to take time on this and allow themselves to heal for as long as it'll take them. It's not something you should rush."

He heard the doorknob turning, the nurse peeking in. "Mr. Jones is coming to see you now, Dr. Gerald."

"Alright, send him in. Sonic, after we're done treating this patient, I'll need you for one more study and I'll send you off for the day. You look almost dead right now. Are you sure you got some good sleep? At least six hours?"

"Yeah," he lied. He spent most of the night staring at the glaring red numbers on his alarm clock, watching the minutes go by, while his mind tossed and turned like his body.

He couldn't speak more of it as Mr. Jones walked into his office. He was a thin man, his arms looking like thin twigs and his watch looking like it was going to fall from his body. He was wearing slacks and a black band t-shirt that neither the doctor nor the hedgehog could recognize, System Syn.

He was on antidepressants, noticing that they helped a little, but he felt it wasn't enough. The patient knew about Dr. Gerald's assistant, Sonic, and actually asked him how his hands got cut up. Sonic simply answered, "I had a battle with a lawnmower." He didn't really want to explain what really happened with him.

Dr. Gerald prescribed him a higher dose of Zoloft, Sonic assuring him that he should be patient with the medicine while allowing himself to help himself. He thought it sounded a little hypocritical coming from him.

A while later, Mr. Jones left, leaving them in the quiet, the only sound they could hear the fountain pouring water to the bottom.

He continued where they were left off in the conversation. "It doesn't really look like you had six hours, Sonic. Your eyes have dark circles under them. Are you having trouble sleeping? You have to tell me the truth."

He knew he had bags under his eyes but didn't want to observe for himself. He avoided mirrors whenever possible, even funhouse mirrors. "I only slept for two hours last night. My mind just rushes every time I'm lying on my bed. I just can't stand being completely still when I'm sleeping, and my mind doesn't want to be still either."

Sonic thought he was writing down more notes about him on a thin slip of paper, until he realized the type of paper he was using he knew was mostly used for prescriptions. He handed it to him.

"It's important you get some sleep tonight. I want you to go to the pharmacy and start taking the Valium whenever you need to go to sleep. I'm not going to make you work yourself to death."

"Doc, you know I don't need pills! I'd rather try to work through this myself! I know those pills will just screw you-…"

"Would you tell that to all of my patients who need medicine to get out of their depressed mood, or to even function? I know how you are with medication Sonic, so I'm only giving you 1 mg and to only take it when you're having difficulty sleeping. You don't need to take it everyday. I just want you to try it for one night and to see if you can actually get enough hours of sleep in. If you don't like the medicine, I can prescribe you something else, probably something not as strong. You really need to sleep, Sonic. Tomorrow is going to be a big day, and I'm going to show you why that would be."

The both of them crept out of the office door and into the hallway, past the TOP SECRET RESEARCH door into the end of the hall. There were clear glassed sliding doors that opened for them, Sonic noticing that he's never been in this part of the Institute before in all his years of working with Gerald.

The room was dark, much like the Research room, with only a few lights in the ceiling dimly illuminating it. He saw a machine, looking metallic and round, with green and red buttons flashing rapidly around it much like the game show signs he would see whenever he actually sat down to watch TV. There were many wires scattered near the machine, and into a hospital bed, where a patient actually resided on. He had black fur, his quills protruding from him as if he was a demon, with bright red streaks on them. He was a hedgehog like Sonic, except he noticed that there were also IVs and a feeding tube attached to him. He was comatose.

"You…actually had a coma patient in here? And he's a hedgehog too? Why didn't you tell me?"

He watched as Gerald took a seat on one of the chairs next to a long desk that had many computer screens and computer systems stretched across it. "I was going to show you Sonic, but I thought it wasn't time for us to discuss it yet. This was something I wanted to show you for a long time."

He captured Sonic's complete attention. He was still as his bright green eyes watched as his computer showed the patient's brainwave activity was normal, as if he was a normal, sleeping patient.

"The clincher? This patient has been comatose for over 50 years. It's a miracle and whenever I show him to other doctors it completely baffles them. A patient comatose for 50 years would be dead by now, and if he still lived, his brainwave activity would be completely gone. It's as if God had plans for him."

If God even existed, Sonic mused. "What's his name and history? How did he even get into a coma?"

"All I know about him is that my colleagues have called him Shadow. He's about 70 years old, and a very long time ago, a girl he loved deeply died and he attempted suicide by driving his motorcycle over a ravine far from here. When the ambulance arrived, he wasn't dead, but in a coma. Doctors didn't know if he had a family or any friends, so they kept him on life support, but they thought he would die the very next week. But…they found out his brain was still functioning, much like a dreaming person's. Theoretically he isn't comatose, but rather, been asleep for over 50 years." He turned to him. "And this is where we can come in. We can actually use the Dreamcast to enter his dreams and we can convince him to 'wake up'. We can both help him to deal with the grief of losing his friend and to get back into society, even if it has changed a lot over those 50 years. But I need you to be really prepared for this, Sonic. There's no telling what this patient's mind will be like."

Their bodies both jumped a little as they heard the sliding doors open. Sonic turned back, seeing their secretary entering. She was a white bat, with black wings hanging from her black, formal dress, her aquamarine eyes seeming to pop out to him as she seemed to wear a lot of eye shadow. He thought she really abused her makeup kit, as he saw whenever she had nothing to do at her desk or took a break, she would get out her mirror and start applying her lipstick or toner.

"Rouge, what are you doing out of your desk? I don't remember you having a break at this time, and you can't be roaming the halls here."

"But I remember that the office today closes at 5, so you have to finish up your research here and start closing this building, Dr. Gerald. You don't want to get locked in here, correct?"

He nodded in agreement. "That's correct, Rouge. I'm sorry. Sonic and I will finish our talk outside of the building. You may leave now as well. Thank you."

Rouge bowed, then left the room, seeming to be in a hurry. Sonic thought he saw something red glinting in her dress, but he never minded it when Dr. Gerald put his heavy hand on his shoulder.

"Please take the medicine, Sonic. The most effective treatment for insomnia sufferers is to take a medication such as Valium. How long has this sleeplessness been going on? I assume years?"

He hesitated a little, but indicated yes with the nod of his head.

"You don't need to take it all the time, but I'd advise to get it to where you're sleeping at least six hours each night. You can't be keeping yourself awake until your body and mind breaks down. That's the last thing I want to worry about. The very first thing you need to do is ride your bike to the pharmacy and get your prescription filled. And I really mean that. Take it as doctor's orders."

The Institute was closed by Dr. Gerald. He always knew Gerald was a bit of a religious man, but he always thought the office being closed early on Sunday was a little ridiculous. He didn't want people to be denied help later in the day simply because it was a Sunday.

He took his white backpack and put the prescription sheet in the front pocket. He was against himself taking medicine to feel better, but he could feel the weariness starting to affect him. When Dr. Gerald left the building he thought he was walking so fast that his mind couldn't pick up that he already got in his car and drove off. The birds and everyone's cars were also moving too quickly for him. It was as if his mind was waning in and out of consciousness, like a CD player constantly skipping a track. There would be a huge blip of consciousness that disappeared in an instant, then suddenly the player would continue to play the song normally, until it would skip again. It was as if everything was in fast forward for him.

He got on his bike, riding to the pharmacy. He was too tired to care that when he rode his bike across the street, he nearly collided with a car. The driver blared at him with the car's horn, but it was as if he couldn't pick up sounds as well.

He hated pharmacies. He hated how they stressed that you need the most expensive cold medicine for something as nonthreatening as a cold, and he didn't want everyone to look at him as he handed his prescription to the pharmacist, thinking he was fucked up and he might as well be a caged animal. He also hated waiting for his prescription, so he walked mindlessly through the aisles, reading the labels of different over the counter medicines. Even when he was reading about the side effects of a nighttime medicine saying it caused drowsiness, the words seemed to fade in and out of his focus. It was as if the words were moving too, scuttling like ants away from the bottle and causing havoc. And then the condors would try to keep these words in line, while the lizards blended into the night, their eyes twinkling like stars and then Master Starfish would pluck these stars and they will become starfish and they would light up the ocean floor and then the sea and the sky will get married and the world will be in harmony all over again until the earth fucks the sea and they ask for a divorce.

"Prescription ready for Sonic the hedgehog."

His mind kept racing and thinking much like Gerald's schizophrenic patients would think. He quickly took his bag of pills and raced his bike back to his apartment, this time not almost being run over.

When the sky fell to dusk he decided he would take a longer shower to relax himself. He couldn't get himself to using shampoo for his hair. He kept staring at the bathroom walls, his thoughts wandering. They were still racing like dogs chasing a mechanical rabbit. And then Angus Hamburger is ahead, followed by Little Rascal and The Dog Who Killed J.R., followed by Custard Eater and Pickem's Pies, followed by Dr. Eggman and the last is the Walrus, goo goo g'joob.

He still couldn't feel himself getting tired. He dried his body and crashed on his bed, seeing his alarm clock with the red blinking numbers 8:08 PM. He kept staring at it, his eyes squinting and beginning to hurt from the light, but yet he couldn't blink for one second. He thought he wasn't capable of even blinking, because he was a cat.

He thought he saw the alarm clock with big purple lips, grinning and puckering. It began to grow small four blue little human feet and walk away.

Jesus, what's happening. He looked back at the ceiling and back at his alarm clock. It was 9:24 PM. It didn't grow lips and feet and walked away. And he wasn't a cat. He was just tired, and an hour or so passed and he couldn't sleep a wink.

It was then that Bruce Springsteen began to talk to him.

"Hey Sonic, you look terrible! A little down too. Want me to sing 'Born in the U.S.A.?' That'll probably get yourself to cheer up."

"No, than-…"

He played anyways.

Then the rest of Bruce Springsteen's band played. Then Jimi Hendrix played "Purple Haze". Then AC/DC played "Highway to Hell" a little louder than the rest. "No stop signs! No speed limit!"

"God guys, will you shut up!" He grabbed his pillow and covered his face with it, trying to shut off the singing. But it was futile. He could still hear them.

His office papers began to turn into paper stingrays, gracing across his apartment with their tails wavering behind them and the bodies of paper wavering like rolling hills. His alarm clock was talking to him.

"Come on, you lil ol' cutie, give me some sugar!"

He wanted to throw it across the room, his hand about to reach for it, until its long, thick blue tongue reached over his face and licked him. It giggled madly like a lunatic as Sonic rose from his bed, infuriated.

"What the hell is going on?" he shouted, but it was masked by all of the bands on his wall singing. It was suddenly that he heard Dr. Gerald's voice amidst the cacophony.

"Sonic, you really need to take your Valium as I prescribed. It'll help you sleep better. Doctor's orders."

He groaned, irritated, but he thought it would help him to get to sleep through all of this chaos. The alarm clock continued to giggle, the bands continued to play, and as he walked across the apartment floor he could feel many colorful plastic balls gathering at his feet and being pulled away as he walked.

He went to the kitchen counter that was being held up by a dragon that gazed at him with scorning green slit eyes, as he opened up his pill trashcan. Many Valium bugs rushed out of it, screaming with their tiny voices, "Freedom!" He immediately smacked his hand on one of them. As its little feet were flattened, feeling tremendous agony, it cried out to him with its struggling breath, "Please tell my wife I love her!"

He grabbed it with his fingers (stinging), it screaming for it to not eat him. When he turned on the faucet to take it with water, turkey juice came out of it. So be it. I will take my pill with turkey juice.

He crashed on his bed as the paper manta rays flew all around him, as the snake coiled around his lamp, as his telephone became a goose and started to honk at him, and as Angus Young wailed, "Hey Momma, look at me! I'm heading straight to the promise land!"

As they all sung out "I'm on the Highway to Hell", Sonic closed his eyes, his mind no longer racing. He fell asleep.