Sometimes, when the moon shines in full glory and the stars blink with pretense innocence, I think of home. The place where my grandfather applauds for my downfall; the place where my parents abandoned me, the forever unwanted one; the place where Sister's sneers haunt my supposed-cheerful childhood.
The place where I first met him, the boy with the eternally burning passion.
His eyes that shone bliss when he talked about Pokemon. His smile that showed sympathy when I drag myself to his room, my wrists leaving a red trail. His hand that slowly pulled me to an embrace as I sobbed and wailed pathetically in his shoulder, his free hand ruffling my spiked hair.
He was the first and last friend I ever had. And I was the only one that ever paid attention to him.
Oh how exuberant both of us were then, sharing those impossible dreams.
And now, when the moon chuckles at my despondent state, I think of what both of us had done to bring our shared goals to reality, of how far we had traveled from those innocent days to achieve those damned dreams.
And of how ridiculously high it had cost the both of us.
And Arceus knows what I wouldn't give to go back and stay in those memories forever.