Chapter 1: Broken

On the dimly lit rooftop, a group of teenage girls huddled together, their laughter mingling with the smoke that curled from their cigarettes. Fiona, the self-proclaimed leader, tossed her sleek red hair back with a smug smile as she surveyed the courtyard below as she got a manicure from one of the girls.

Rosy, her loyal sidekick, snickered, looking below, "Did you see Tikal's outfit today? It's like she raided a thrift store from the '90s. So tragic."

Breezie, the other one, chimed in, painting her own nails, "And Bunnie's makeup? Is she trying to blind us with that glitter?"

The trio erupted into laughter, their gossip fueled by the thrill of rebellion. Fiona took a drag from her cigarette, exhaling with exaggerated nonchalance.

Breezie nodded in agreement and soon her eyes gleamed with mischief. "Speaking of blinding, have you seen Sonic lately? I hear he's back. He's like a walking work of art. I swear, he's the only one with any taste around here."

Rosy looked skeptical, "Isn't he a bit stuck up, though?"

Fiona smirked, "Sure, he's got an attitude, but that's just part of his charm. Besides, he's always been totally infatuated with me. Can you blame him? He fucks me till my legs get numb!" She said, causing Rosy and Breezie to erupt in laughter.

Meanwhile, Amy diligently filled Fiona's nails in the midst of her laughter and friends' chatter. They had to be perfect. After all, Amy had found herself in the role of Fiona's lackey, subject to Fiona's whims and demands. Whether it was following Fiona around or carrying out tasks at her command, Amy often played a subservient role in Fiona's social circle. The power dynamics were clear, with Fiona exerting influence and Amy following along, navigating the complexities of their relationship within the context of high school dynamics.

It's how it had been ever since she had first moved to this High School two years ago.

Suddenly, Fiona's mood shifted dramatically as Amy filed her nail, Fiona slapped Amy, snapping, "Fucking bitch, be careful! That hurt!" The slap was painfully loud.

Embarrassed, Amy managed a smile and stammered, "I'm sorry, Fiona. It was an accident." She blinked, trying to orient herself from the slap. Her quills messy and her cheek turning slightly red.

Fiona scrutinized her nails critically, inspecting Amy's handiwork on the manicure. With a smirk, she stared down at Amy and offered a fake pout. "Oh, sorry. Did that hurt?" Fiona apologized as the other two girls laughed. "You poor thing. I didn't mean to slap you so hard. You look more homeless now."

As Fiona slung her insult, Amy shot a subtle glance at Rosy, her twin sister, who casually averted her gaze, engrossed in filing her own nails. Amy sighed, realizing Rosy wouldn't defend her for the sake of good terms with Fiona. Amy retorted with a forced laugh, "Oh, it's fine! It didn't hurt at all." She lied.

Breezie burst into laughter at Amy's apparent foolishness, and Fiona joined in with a chuckle.

Breezie sneered, "Oh, you're a tough one, Amy. Like, seriously, who smiles after a slap?"

Fiona chimed in, "Right? It's almost like she enjoys the pain."

Amy, maintaining her facade, responded, "It really didn't hurt! And well, life's too short to dwell on little things, right?" Rosy, still engrossed in her nails, subtly rolled her eyes at the exchange.

Breezie, with a sly grin, asked Amy, "You into being slapped, pinky? Is that your thing?" She and Fiona continued their mockery, making fun of her, and Amy visibly looked uncomfortable, shifting uneasily under their scrutiny.

"No, I…!" Breezie didn't let Amy finish her sentence.

Breezie, reveling in her cruelty, roughly grabbed Amy's face, chuckling at the visible discomfort. "Look at that," she sneered, "You hit her pretty hard, Fi. Her cheek is turning all red. Is this too much for you?" Amy, on the verge of tears, struggled to maintain composure, her discomfort evident. Rosy shot a disapproving glare at Breezie but hesitated to intervene.

Amy, fighting back tears, managed to pull away from Breezie's grasp, her facade crumbling. "It really doesn't hurt, Breezie. You can let go. My skin is just sensitive," she whispered, her voice shaky.

Fiona, finding the situation amusing, chimed in, "Oh, come on, Amy. Can't take a little teasing?" Breezie continued to laugh, reveling in the discomfort she had caused as she pinched Amy's cheek hard, causing her to wince. "Wha? I thought you said it didn't hurt? Are you lying to me?"

Rosy, unable to stand by any longer, stepped forward. "That's going too far, Breezie. Lay off," she asserted, surprising everyone with her sudden intervention.

Fiona snapped at Rosy, her tone sharp, "Stay out of it, Rosy. This is none of your business."

Rosy, visibly disgruntled, stammered, "I just don't want the teachers finding out. If you're going to do something, at least do it where it's not visible."

Amy, feeling betrayed by her twin, looked at Rosy with a mix of hurt and disbelief. The others laughed, reveling in the discord they had sown. Fiona smirked, "You know what, Rosy's got a point," she said with a calculating look. "We can't have the teachers thinking we're bullying Amy. We're just playing. Plus it was an accident. Isn't that right, Amy?"

Amy let out a pathetic laugh, wiping rebellious tears from her eyes. "Yeah, I'm okay." She lied, not wanting to show her weak side.

"Gosh, stop crying. You're acting like a victim. Stop being such an attention seeker. I said it was an accident." Fiona snapped, rolling her eyes. "You've totally ruined the mood."

"Ah… sorry." Amy mumbled, clutching her hands in a right fist, preparing for the worst, knowing how much the girls loved to torment her as Fiona stared her down.

Just then, Amy was saved by the bell.

"Ah, looks like the bell rang." Fiona announced, standing and putting out her cigarette. "Let's head to class, girls." She stood, walking into the school as Breezie followed close behind.

Amy let out a sigh of relief, releasing her clenched hands and turning to Rosy, who stared back at her uncomfortably, Amy, with an expected mocking fake smile.

"What is it, Rosy? Are you going to give me a hug?" Amy chuckled mockingly, opening her arms out to her, half sarcastic—half hopeful.

Rosy scoffed, whatever pity she had erased. "Maybe if you weren't such a loser, you wouldn't be in this situation," Rosy said coldly, echoing Fiona's sentiments. Amy, accustomed to her sister's resentment, sat there with a sigh as Rosy ran off to catch up with the others.

To think this was her daily life.

—•———•—

Amy, wincing from the pain, spat blood into the bathroom sink. As she touched her cheek, feeling the aftermath of Fiona's slap, she sighed, aware of the visible mark left behind. Internally cursing, she knew Blaze might notice, making the situation even more complicated.

Despite the discomfort, Amy gargled water to clean her wound, tidied her quills, and adjusted her uniform. Applying makeup on her cheek to mask the redness, she stared at her reflection in the mirror with bitterness.

As her reflection stared back, she couldn't escape the internal dialogue of self-doubt that echoed in her mind. Every imperfection seemed magnified, and she struggled to find any redeeming qualities.

She was a nobody.

As Amy touched her cheek, she couldn't shake the memory of when her and Rosy had first moved to this school. She recalled a time when the girls had targeted Rosy, and Amy had always been there to defend her younger sister. However, something changed one day, and Rosy joined the ranks of the bullies. Now, the tables had turned, and it was Amy who found herself isolated and betrayed, reflecting on the painful transformation her sister had undergone.

The sting of betrayal cut deeper coming from Rosy than it ever did from Fiona. Amy could handle the cruelty of others, but seeing her own sister turn against her was a hurt that ran much deeper. The weight of isolation and hurt settled heavily on her shoulders as she grappled with the unexpected shift in their relationship.

The turning point was etched in Amy's memory—the day Rosy cornered her, tossed her belongings into the school pool, and callously threw her in, claiming she stank, instantly claiming her a spot in Fiona's friend group. The shock and betrayal resonated deep within Amy. Following that incident, her supposed friends turned their backs, distancing themselves to avoid Fiona's bullying, fueled by the protection granted by her father's position as the principal. Amy's confidence shattered, leaving her socially isolated and battling anxiety, the remnants of an experience that scarred her deeply but she needed to be strong.

—•———•—

Exiting the restroom with a fake smile, Amy navigated the hallway toward her next class. Her attention was drawn to a group of girls fawning over a certain guy, their admiration evident in hushed whispers and stolen glances and Amy followed their gaze.

Just down the hall walked none other than Sonic the Hedgehog, the most popular guy in school, a crowd around him, walking with his head deep in his phone.

Amy's thoughts swirled as she observed Sonic's handsome features, acknowledging the attention he garnered from other girls. Memories of when she admired his good looks upon their first meeting flashed through her mind. However, the allure of his appearance held little significance now.

He was no different to Fiona.

Despite Sonic never physically harming her or partaking in bullying, he had always been indifferent to her suffering, not a perpetrator, nor a victim, but a bystander, not just any either but one that acted as if she was invisible and worse of all—Fiona's lover.

As Amy walked past Sonic in the crowded halls, she kept her head down, an unnoticed figure navigating the currents of high school life. Living opposite lives. Little did they both know, in that seemingly mundane moment, within a few hours, the trajectory of their lives was about to shift, setting the stage for unforeseen changes that would unfold in the days to come.

—•———•—

Amid the flurry of students exiting the classroom, the teacher's voice cut through, detailing the upcoming homework assignments. As the room emptied, Amy, eager to slip away from the building tensions, moved toward the door.

However, the teacher's firm tone halted her. "Amy, could you please stay for a moment? I'd like to have a word with you."

Caught between the urgency of her escape and the teacher's request, Amy hesitated, inwardly cursing as she stood back. After the class had emptied, Amy found herself alone with her teacher, Mrs. Rabbit. She noticed the mark on her cheek and concern etched across her face. "Amy, what happened to your cheek?" She inquired gently.

Amy hesitated for a moment before offering a quick explanation, "Oh, it's just from getting hit by a ball in PE." The teacher seemed skeptical, sensing there might be more to the story.

Mrs. Rabbit kindly reassured her, "You know, if there's something on your mind, you can talk to me. I'm here to help, and you can trust me."

Amy's gaze flickered towards the window, where she spotted Fiona and her gang lingering outside as they laughed with a group of boys. Angst trickled in, and she turned back to her teacher, mustering a small smile. "Thanks, but really, it was just a ball. Nothing to worry about," she insisted, attempting to divert the conversation away from the truth she was reluctant to share, especially considering it never ended in her favor when teachers got involved.

Mrs. Rabbit eyed her, not seeming to believe her but she gave a sigh. "Amy," the teacher began, her expression compassionate, grabbing something from her desk, "I've noticed your dedication and potential. It's time to think about your future. I encourage you to start exploring colleges."

Mrs. Rabbit handed her a college pamphlet, her eyes conveying a genuine concern. "Take a look at this. It might help you navigate the process. Your potential is limitless, Amy. Don't forget that."

Grateful, Amy accepted the pamphlet, her demeanor softening. "Thank you," she replied, a genuine appreciation in her voice.

"You're welcome." The teacher maintained a gentle expression, her hand resting reassuringly on Amy's shoulder. "Alright, well just remember. I'm here if you ever need someone to talk to," she offered sincerely.

Amy nodded appreciatively, but her eyes betrayed a hint of vulnerability. She couldn't shake the fear stemming from Fiona's presence outside. "I appreciate that, Mrs. Rabbit. It's just... you know how things are sometimes," she added with a subtle sigh.

Mrs. Rabbit nodded understandingly, "High school can be tough. Don't hesitate to reach out if you change your mind." She gave her a supportive smile, hoping she'd find the courage to confide in her when she felt ready.

As Amy left the classroom, she couldn't shake the uneasy feeling, glancing cautiously at Fiona and her gang before heading in the opposite direction through the back of the school.

—•———•—

Amy's footsteps echoed in the quiet street as she navigated the labyrinth of her thoughts, eyes fixed on the pamphlet displaying the daunting college application process. Her mind wandered, envisioning a future far from the clutches of her current reality.

Lost in contemplation, she couldn't escape the shadows of Fiona's gang or the strain with her sister. A heavy sigh escaped her lips, carrying the weight of her aspirations.

Her thoughts involuntarily drifted to the past, remembering the closeness she once shared with her sister. The bond they had was a comforting haven from the chaos of their world.

Yet, the present reality cast a shadow on those cherished memories. Determined, Amy pushed the thoughts aside, choosing to focus on the potential of a brighter future illuminated by the possibilities outlined in the college pamphlet.

Abruptly, a thunderous clash pierced the air, jolting Amy from her reverie. Her eyes darted towards the commotion, leading her gaze down an ominous alleyway. There, a group of teenagers brandished a baseball bat, berating another guy sprawled on the ground.

"Get up, you worthless brat!" the main man bellowed, swinging the baseball bat menacingly. "Thought you could mess with me and get away with it, huh?"

The other guy on the ground winced, shielding himself from the impending blows. Fear gripped Amy, ready to flee, until she noticed the distinctive uniform—the young man was from her school. As her pulse quickened, she squinted, recognizing the face of the most popular guy, a stark contrast to the image she held of him in the school's social hierarchy. Shock painted her face, frozen in the surreal intersection of her private musings and this unexpected alleyway drama.

It was none other than Sonic the Hedgehog.

Critique/Opinions/Predictions please!