Sad Little Loser

Harriet thought of almost everything. The hedgehog brought the strongest hemp ropes she owned, packed her cheeks with rags, and covered her mouth with super-adhesive duct-tape. The only thing she hadn't thought of was "how to get out."

Alone and bored, the hedgehog's mind was left to wander to icy blue places. Normally, she'd quiet her mind with music, but her Walkman was out of reach.

"Flora's gonna find me before mom gets home," she assured herself. "She'd have gotten out of this by now," she thought, imagining her strong squirrel friend breaking free of her bonds. "Not me, though. I just sit around waiting to be rescued." The hedgehog groaned. "She must think I'm a ditzy little loser." 

Harriet pulled her knees to her chest. The hedgehog didn't like to feel sad. She just couldn't help herself sometimes. It was just too easy to indulge her negative thoughts. She sometimes felt compelled to do so.

"And she's right. I AM just a ditzy little loser with no ambition, no personality, and no future."

The hedgehog sniffled, bowed her head low, and gently cried.