No point in writing an introduction in the author's notes section now, as I stink at it. On with the show!
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon.
Five years ago. . .
"Hey Serena! Catch me if you can!"
"Haha! I'm right behind you, Andrea," I replied telepathically. "Better hurry, 'cause the last one home's a rotten egg!"
"Aw, come on, Serena. Everybody's heard that before," Andrea remarked.
"Too bad. Because I'm still gonna beat ya back to the house," I responded while gliding forward off the ground.
"H-hey, no fair! I can't do that!" Andrea cried.
"Haha! You're gonna be the rotten egg!" I sped the rest of the way back home, slapping the front door with my right arm once I'd gotten there. "Yes! I was right! You are the rotten egg, Andrea!"
A few moments passed. A few minutes passed. Andrea was nowhere to be seen.
"Andrea, come out! We're not playing hide-and-seek!" I hollered. I received no response.
"Mom and Dad are gonna kill me if we don't both make it back for dinner. Andrea, please, this isn't funny!"
"Se-re-na," a broken rasp rang out. I began running toward the source of the sound, not thinking to use my psychic abilities to levitate instead.
"Andrea!" I cried out upon seeing her curled up on the ground. "What's wrong?" I asked as I came to a stop.
"Ugh. Chest hurts. Seeing spots. Can't breathe," Andrea choked out.
"W-what should I do?" I asked, panicking slightly.
"Get Mom and Dad," Andrea wheezed. The instant she stopped speaking, I took off toward the house.
"Mom! Dad! Help! Please!" I screamed as loudly as I could. The instant I reached the house's front porch, the front door flew open, and I collided with Mom's leg.
"Oof," I grunted, falling backward from the impact.
"Serena, what happened?" Dad demanded.
"Andrea tripped. She said she can't breathe and her chest hurts," I slurred out in one breath.
"Quick, call the hospital," Dad commanded Mom. Mom nodded in response and ran to the phone, "Okay, Serena. Where's Andrea?"
"Quick! Take my hand," I replied.
I quickly dragged Dad over to Andrea. I don't remember what they said, or when the ambulance arrived to take Andrea away. The whole thing was a blur to me. The next thing I knew, Mom was calling out to me.
"Serena! Get inside!" Mom said, gesturing toward the ambulance. I got in and the ambulance drove to the Saffron City General Hospital.
I didn't like the hospital then, and I still don't like it even now. They took Andrea inside the operating room and said we couldn't see her for several hours. Mom took me in her arms and cradled me to sleep. . .
I awoke to voices two hours later, as it turns out.
"-be fine. The pain she felt simply came from mild overexertion. Does Andrea have a history of asthma?" I heard an unfamiliar voice say.
"No, she doesn't," Dad responded.
"Hmm, this is very strange. May we conduct a few tests on her?" I don't like him. He seems scary and mean and his voice sounds funny. I would later find out that nearly all the doctors behaved just like him.
"Okay."
"Mom, what's gonna happen to Andrea?" I asked.
"Oh, you're awake. How did you sleep, Serena?"
"Mom! You didn't answer my question!"
"Oh, she'll be fine. It was just an asthma attack." But didn't the doctor just say he thinks it isn't asthma?
"Mom, you're not telling the truth."
"Oh, honey," Mom said, turning to Dad. "Why don't we go outside and discuss things?"
"But why do we-" Dad was cut off by Mom putting a finger to her lips and shushing him.
"Uh, Serena, you stay here and wait for us. We'll be right outside the lobby," Dad quickly stated. I complied with his order.
I took a look around and what I saw horrified me. The whole waiting room was painted a dull, eerie brown. The benches were simply slats of unvarnished wood projecting from the wall. A crude, hand-made, dusty coffee table sat in the center with the previous year's issue of Space news magazine on top. The magazine's cover had been ripped off and several (vulgar, as I later found out) words were scrawled across the inside. The receptionist was a fearsome-looking, Spearow-eyed woman with a huge mole on her chin. She cast a glare at me. I flinched and did my best to hide myself. I hope they don't keep Andrea here; I don't like this place at all. I heard voices through the door.
"We have to tell her, she's Andrea's Pokémon and her closest friend," Dad said.
"If you tell her, she'll fall apart. You know what the members of the Ralts evolutionary line are like."
"But she has a right to know. Would you like it if your family tried to lie to you about what happened to your sister?" Dad's voice began to rise.
"This is completely different! I'm not a Kirlia who had such a strong bond with my sister. We barely even talked as kids."
"She's a part of the family and deserves to know. -sigh- I knew it would be risky trying to raise a child when she's related to someone who had leukemia." My thoughts cut in right then. Leukemia? What's that? Is Andrea gonna be okay?
My train of thought was interrupted by a voice calling out to me.
"Hello. Are you Andrea's Kirlia?" A stout, short nurse in worn pink scrubs asked.
"Yes, I am," I replied telepathically. "Is she okay?"
"Uh . . . well. . ." the nurse stuttered.
"Does she have leukemia?"
"Wh-how did you know?"
"I heard Mom and Dad talking about it."
"Oh. Right this way, please," the nurse guided me down the hallway to Andrea's room.
I had thought the lobby was terrible, with the crude coffee table, wooden slat benches, and outdated magazine, but the patients' rooms were much worse. They were painted a sickly mustard yellow color and had floorboards torn up in places. The beds were simply piles of sheets placed on the ground with a blanket and pillow on top. The blanket, pillow, and sheets didn't appear to have had a washing since the previous month. Beside each bed stood two nightstands, poorly hand-crafted just like the coffee table, looking as if they might fall apart at any minute. To top it all off, a single steel basin served as the patients' bathroom. It appeared that nobody had bothered to empty them for some time.
"Here we are," said the nurse, opening the room's door and motioning for me to go inside.
"Andrea!" I cried out as I flung myself on her and gave her the biggest Ursaring hug ever.
"Ow! Serena! Are you trying to kill me?!" Andrea cried out. Upon hearing those words, I quickly retracted my arms; sorry I had done such a thing.
"Oh, I'm sorry."
"It's fine. I was just kidding, anyway," Andrea tried to smile, but as soon as the corners of her mouth rose, she gasped and clutched her chest.
"Oh no! Are you okay?" I quickly bent over her, trying to see what was wrong.
"Ugh. I'm fine. I just need a little sleep," Andrea mumbled.
"You don't sound fine to me. Does your chest still hurt?"
"No, Serena, don't worry. I'm fine, really."
"But they said you have leukemia, doesn't it hurt?"
"Leukemia? What's that?"
I opened my mouth to answer, but immediately realized I didn't know. All I had heard was the name.
"Serena, Serena, can you hear me?" Andrea was waving her right hand in front of my face, calling for my attention.
"Huh, oh, sorry," I replied, coming out of my trance. "I don't know what leukemia is either."
"It's okay. Maybe we can ask Mom and Dad when they come over to see me."
Speaking of the devil, just then the door opened and Mom and Dad came in. Right away, Mom threw her arms around Andrea, hugged her and kissed her on the cheek. Dad simply gave Andrea a pat on the back. Andrea surprised both of them by broaching a question.
"Mom, Dad. What's leukemia?"
Mom and Dad stood there, exchanging bewildered expressions, unable to believe what they had just heard. A long, awkward silence ensued. Eventually, Dad broke it by asking, "Who told you about that?"
"Serena did," was Andrea's reply as she pointed a finger in my direction.
"Hmm," Dad murmured, stroking his moustache. "Did you overhear our conversation outside, Serena?"
"I did, but could you tell us what leukemia is?"
"Yeah, why don't you tell us," Andrea chimed in. "I'm guessing it's not nearly as bad as that Pidgey and Beedrill thing you've tried to talk about."
"W-well, I-" Dad began. Mom had remained in stunned silence the whole time.
"Tell us!" Andrea shouted while thumping the nightstand on her left. Not knowing what else to do and being too immature at the time to really think over what I was doing, I joined in with Andrea.
"Yeah, tell us!" I let out a telepathic shout to match Andrea's while thumping the nightstand as well. Andrea let out another shout of "Tell us!" as did I. Eventually, we were chanting in unison while pounding the nightstand, oblivious to how much noise and tension we were generating.
"Girls, girls!" Dad yelled, trying to regain control."Please!"
Needless to say, we continued with our chorus and drumming, unaware of Mom's eyes hardening from stress. The awful din we were generating continued until the nightstand, poorly crafted as it was, broke in two vertically down the middle with an ear-splitting crack. This was the final straw that broke the Camerupt's back. Mom let out a loud, angry scream of displeasure, the tension having built past the breaking point for her. After a few minutes of incoherent babbling, we began to understand what she was saying. Mom was breathing heavily now, and her face was turning crimson from all the yelling she was doing.
"You don't know just how serious this is, do you?! Leukemia was the reason why my sister died and now it might do the same to Andrea!" After finishing with her fit of yelling, Mom collapsed on the bench across the room from Andrea's bed and cried. Dad quickly ran over to her and tried to comfort her.
Leukemia can kill people? I wondered. I don't want that to happen to Andrea! Tears began to slide down my cheeks. Andrea noticed, and tried to comfort me.
"Don't worry, Serena. I'll be fine. I don't feel anything now," Andrea intoned while gently rubbing my back. "Besides, just because old aunt Margaret died from it doesn't mean I will, right?"
I turned my head to look at her sideways with my left eye, which now bore pronounced red lines from crying.
"There," Andrea assured me. "Feeling better? I am. As soon as I get a good night's sleep, this will all be over, and the only part of this that will stay is the memory."
In the present day. . .
". . . and the only part of this that will stay is the memory," I recite, repeating Andrea's words from that mournful day. I am standing in front of a large, crumbling stone building with its only adorning feature a tarnishing silver plaque posted over the entrance reading "Saffron City General Hospital."
I sigh, open the squeaky wooden door, and walk down the hallway, preparing to see my trainer again . . .
Whew! My longest work yet. I tried writing with a different style for once, after my previous disastrous (pun intended) fic.
Anyway, please read and review, as usual. Also, please tell me if this story's entitled to continuation, because I have more than one chapter planned out for this fic, as is evident from the ending of this chapter.