Memoirs of Angel Island


I am no man of letters, so it will seem strange to any reader that I should write of the close and inseparable friendship between Doctor Prower and myself. And were it not by my friend's own request, I should certainly not be given the honour of writing this by way of introduction to one of the most difficult books I have ever seen.

"Difficult?" Yes, difficult. Doctor Prower, or "Tails" as I have known and loved him, has never feared to pose the difficult questions that so many others shirked. He was the one to ask, "Why should we not harness Chaos energy? Why should man not marry the sapients outside his race? Why should it be impossible that we escape this planet and fly to the stars?" Truly, there is no aspect of our lives that Doctor Prower has not touched upon, or essayed, or improved with his prodigious mind.

To think that I should call the owner of such a mind my friend, and upon that the most intimate and closest of friends I have or ever shall have to my name- it is profoundly humbling. I might be renowned for my speed and athletic prowess, but I would trade it in with my good name without a moment's hesitation for Doctor Prower's genius.

But I know all too well how harsh and hard a life the little fox with the rimless spectacles whose face most know had before he leapt into the public eye with his great inventions and mighty arguments. I was the only one to see firsthand some of the pain, the crushing loneliness and isolation which could have destroyed any lesser soul, that my friend had to bear. I knew I had to save him from all that, and the world is forever changed for that one act. Yet I had no idea, no idea whatever, how deep was my friend's struggle against the creeping darkness and cruelty of the world, equally as brave or braver than any of my own lesser deeds. Not until Tails invited me to read his diaries that he kept during his long, dark childhood when he was never a child did I even have a glimpse of suffering. And when I did, I could do nothing but embrace him and weep, and apologize for all the sins wrought unjustly against such a pure soul.

I admonished Tails to publish the journals, all of them, complete and unadulterated, so that the world could learn exactly of what happened to him. In turn, the world itself could learn the hard lessons Tails gleaned from hardships, up until now untold. However, at the time, he refused, saying that he would not wish the sadness of his early life on anyone else. That was more than five years ago, five long years in which he continued to bear that pain, alone but for my confidence.

I was overjoyed to learn that he had finally decided to publish. The news came from Tails himself one day in one of our many visits and talks. At the time, I embraced my friend again, this time not out of sorrow, but gladness that he would no longer have to suffer the horror of those years in secret. Then, Tails asked me to write this very piece, and I was both shocked and alarmed. What could I add to such a work? What could my words add to such a work of melancholy genius?

I do not know if it is enough, but I can say this: that which is contained in this book, for good or bad, will change you forever. Dr. Prower has always worked for the good of the world and the good of all its citizens, human and sapient alike, and he would not have told his story if there was no betterment in it for those who hear it. Learn from him, for he has learned lessons no person ever should have to. Cry for him, for he suffered much for our benefit. Above all else, give him the honour he deserves, more than any other in this world, and read every word, omitting nothing. Only then will you learn what he set out so bravely to teach.

Sonic The Hedgehog