Chapter 17: Breakfast Blues

3 0 0
                                    

I shook myself out of the great dream I had. And by great, I mean completely genocidal. All I remember was that I was on a helicopter, a grenade launcher in my hands, unlimited power, and firing on a city. Explosions, fires, collapsing buildings, and flying limbs. And when I woke from that, I was panicking and in a cold sweat.

Me: God Damn. Holy fuck.

I wiped my brow and hopped out of the bed and threw my clothes on.

Me: What the Hell? What was that?

There was a knock on the door.

Me: Who is it?

Tails: It's Tails. I just wanted to let you know that breakfast is almost done. Come down when you're ready.

Me: Alright. I just need a minute to calm down.

Tails: What happened?

Me: Just a nightmare, is all. I'll be alright in a minute. Just need to breathe.

Tails: Well, waffles are on the table if you want them, but I'm making myself some pancakes.

Me: What's the difference between them?

Tails: Pancakes are smooth, like a baby's bottom.

Me: Still, they're made from the same things.

Tails: Oh. Okay. I mean, if you want pancakes with me, I'll make them.

Me: Tails, buddy. They're made from the same thing. The same batter is used for both.

Tails: Okay. I'll give you a minute.

I heard the stairs creak, and I fell to my knees and broke down and cried. I thought of what I was now. This... this monster. I remembered who I was, and I wanted to be who that was, but I couldn't. I couldn't be my old self. I knew I couldn't be fixed ever again. I had murder and cannibalism in my veins, and I needed to fix it, but I didn't know how.

About five minutes passed, and I wiped my tears and stood back up on my feet, staring at the floor.

Me: Wh...what am I now? Why am I this?

I walked over to the door and pulled it open, heading downstairs and into the kitchen. I pulled over one of the wooden chairs and fell down into it, resting my arm on the table and my head in my hand. A plate of two waffles covered in butter and syrup slid right in front of me.

Tails: Enjoy.

Me: Yeah. Thanks.

Tails: What's a matter, Travis?

Me: I just... remembered something. Something I didn't want to remember. Not yet, anyways.

Tails: Oh. Well, if you want to talk about it, I'm here.

Me: Nah. I'm fine.

Tails: You're clearly not alright. I can tell you're distressed.

Me: Tails. You keep pushing me to tell you, you're gonna end up with a chunk of metal in your head.

Tails: B-b-But you said-

Me: Like I stated earlier, you're pushing your fucking luck. If I don't want to talk, I don't want to fucking talk.

Sonic: What's all the commotion?

I looked over at him. He leaned against his arm on the frame of the doorway to the kitchen from the living room. Tails had just stepped away from the sink and sat down on one of the other chairs.

Tails: He's going through some things.

Me: Leave me be, Miles. I'd rather mope in peace.

Sonic: We're here for each other. No use hiding it.

Me: I just had a bad dream and I remembered something. That's all.

Sonic: Oh. Well, if you want some help, we're here to talk to.

Me: I said I don't want to talk about it. If I don't want to, I don't need to.

Tails: It's probably better if you DO tell us.

Me: Tails. I don't want to talk. What don't you understand about that?

Sonic: Look. You can tell us. We're probably the closest people you have here.

Me: Leave. Me. Alone. I don't want to hurt you guys, but you're really pushing your fucking lucks.

Tails: Your waffles are getting cold.

Me: Do I fucking care?

Sonic: Apparently not.

Me: Let the fox speak for himself, you blue-spiny bastard.

Tails: No. You don't care.

Me: So leave me the fuck alone.

Sonic: I think we should give him some space, Tails.

Me: No no. Just get me my gun. Please? I just want to hold it. Not like anyone will hug me anyways.

Sonic: Well, I mean... we could hug you.

Me: You've GOT to be kidding me. You guys have better things to do, right? Like, doing IT with your girls?

Tails: WHAT KIND OF SICK FUCK ARE YOU?!?

He stood up quickly and stormed off up the stairs. I just chuckled and started to dig into my waffles. Light, flaky, buttery, and syrupy. The best things to happen to waffles.

Sonic: That was completely uncalled for.

I tried saying "I'm dirty. Fight me," but my mouth was full of waffle.

Sonic: Oh well. Can't always make him mad, but you seemed to get it on your first try.

I finished my plate and threw it into the sink, surprisingly not breaking it.

Me: How did it not break?

Sonic: Oh, you know Tails and what he can do.

Me: He invented an unbreakable plate?

Sonic: He prefers the term "made." A lot of plates can't be broken.

Me: Yeah. But most WILL break when they're thrown into a sink. Either the sink's made of something EXTREMELY soft, or the plate's made of titanium steel.

Tails: Hey, Guys?

We both looked at him. He was back downstairs, relaxed on the couch, watching the news. Well, "relaxed" was the wrong word to use. He was TERRIFIED.

Sonic: What's up, little buddy?

Tails: Ummm... check the TV.

The Crystal Of DarknessWhere stories live. Discover now