Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon, yada yada yada.

A/N: I was called sexist when I published the prologue to a forum I used to go too. Even after I explained about what inspired the girl's problems and etc about her lifestyle in her home village/town. The funny part is I'm a girl too. Never knew one could be sexist to ones own gender. Or be accused of it anyways.

Prologue
Introduction to a life...

I'm not like other girls you know ...

I mean in tastes, actions ... and pokemon.

I don't mind being outcasted for what I like, I've been a loner most of my life. I can stand being seen as wierd or unusual, or down right creepy for what I do. I can't say some of the things I do are remotely sane, but if no one knows about them, then that's fine by me. For as much as I can stand the looks, the attitude, everything towards me... I wouldn't want to see if it could get any worse.

I live in a small town, in a place close to Goldenrod. I come from a large family, with aunts and uncles and what not, though I lack in siblings. My parents didn't really marry out of love, you see, it was more about gaining more controll over land. For while this town may be small .. we're not exactly what you'd call poor.

So all the girls are expected to wear dresses, the boys to become pokemon trainers, and everything is fine.

Or maybe not. As I said, there was a reason why I'm frowned upon by almost everyone.

I want to become a pokemon trainer. I want to wear shirts and shorts and jeans and maybe even tank tops, maybe even a skirt that barely covers anything! I want to locate and study pokemon, but not just any kind of pokemon...

Bug Pokemon...

I find them as interesting as they are irresistable. So underestimated by the trainers I over hear as they pass through my home town. So dispised by people for being creepy. And crawly. And for not looking like avian pokemon or mamilians or even the reptiles and fish pokemon.

But I see something they all don't...

I see potential ... I see something strong ... I see something that could give me a life outside of this dull town, this drab life, this soul numbing existence that my family wants to force me into.

And tonight ... tonight I shall escape these walls that press down upon me...

For tonight, I will try- no, I will make it to Goldenrod.

Chapter One
The Attempt for Freedom

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•All was quiet... almost too quiet. But I had no choice, it was now or never. I was just, just legally old enough to be drafted into a marriage contract. And a small part of me wished the stupid 'legal age' had been bumped from fourteen to eighteen. But no, just my luck it seemed to have been overlooked .. untill now, and now is to late for it to be revised in time for myself to be saved.

There is no way, in hell, I am going to marry whomever my parents decided to contract me out too. I am not some brood Rapidash!•

Breathing in and out slowly, I carefully exited my room. Escape out of the window would be near impossible. For one; it was too cold a night to go around in a set of thin p.js', for another, I didn't want to risk a limb breaking and me falling to my death.

Or atleast a broken leg.

So steeling my courage, I cracked my door open slowly to prevent it from squeaking, and tip toed on bare feet into the hall, thankfull that it was carpeted because I hate getting cold feet. Bad enough I was going to have to walk through chilly weather, didn't need frozen feet too.

Letting out my with held breath slowly, I started down the hallway ever so silently. ... or as silently as I could muster, as it seemed whenever you tried to be quiet, you made noise. Even the slightest squeak of a floorboard, whisper of a breath or even your very own heart beat seemed to be multiplied when you tried to be quiet.

Twenty feet, and I would be by and gone the plain oak door to my parents room. Then another fifteen to the stairs, after making it past my cousin's room. Then, down the stairs, avoiding the last step, as it did make alot of noise if stepped on, it'd only be a hop-skip-jump away from freedom.

Backpack in one hand, shoes in the other, all seemed to be going well.

Just .. I had forgotten one minor detail. You see, as I told you before, men were really the only ones allowed to have and battle pokemon ... but there was no rule against having one for a pet. And my mother had this great, old, and very fat, greying from age, Vulpix.

Now this Vulpix and I had never gotten along, not since I caught it trying to torture a poor Pidgey with an ember attack. So I had done what any humane person would do; I kicked the Vulpix, Beatrix I think my mother called her, and rescued the Pidgey.

Ever since then, the evil grey thing has been out for my blood.

So here I am, having made it sucsessfully past two bedrooms with over sensitive ears, just ready to catch a girl trying to make her escape...

... when Beatrix appears out of no where and slams into me, yapping, yowling and snapping at me. I lose my balance as I cry out from pain and surprise. Then the cry got louder and longer as I started to tumble forwards. Yelping from pain as I hit the stairs, bounced rolled and tumbled. I heard one exclimation from the Vulpix in the fall, and then startled noises from upstairs, but I'm more preocupied by the fact I'm tumbling down a flight of stairs.

Finally coming to a crashing halt onto the ground floor; I stay still for a moment, slightly amazed that the one thing I have grown to loathe has saved my life, somewhat, as I uncurl from the fetus like position I'd taken during my fall.

As I'm pushing myself up, barely aware of a mournfull wail from my mother at the top of the stairs. A small part wondered why that was, and I'm allowed into the loop as a hand brushes something slightly warm and fuzzy. Blinking a little from confusion, I glance over at my right hand, wondering what that stuff on my hand is. And as the lights are turned on, I see what it is.

Blood.

Dark red, and turning black already as the air hits it, I look down and see the broken and battered form of the grey Vulpix that was my mothers. It looked like an over used rag doll toy. Tails askew, a leg pointed in the wrong direction. Another bent wierd. And the eyes ... a cold lifeless black. Like those bead glass eyes of a doll I once had.

And somehow I knew, deep down, this was one of those final steps in burning the bridges in staying here. I had no other choice now as with thunderous steps, my father came down the stairs. I knew what he was going to do if he caught me. I wouldn't let him catch me. I didn't want to recive the end of that belt again as punishment for being out of line.

Though a fearfull yelp escaped me as I pushed myself up and bolted for the door, it was all I could do to not trip on my dress. But it was not to be as I stumbled, and fell. Crashing to the ground once again and jarring my already aching body even more.

... I will not go into what happened next.

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I would like to say I am used to the pain. That I'm numb and can ignore it by now. That this sort of disipline is something I've become immune too. ... I would like it to be the truth too. But it isn't. Each welt burns as the gauze covering it shifts a little as I breathe. My body is aflame from agony, and all I can do is bite down so hard on my lower lip it bleeds. This isn't the first time it has happened, and if I don't get away soon, it won't be the last.

My things are gone. As is most of anything I could use to get out of my locked room.

And this sickening feeling in my gut tells me something is happening. Something bad, something I won't like. Something that might even mean the end of any dreams I have, or could ever have.

So it really is now or never.

My body protested movement as I stood up, drawing more blood from my lip it bleeds once more, filling my mouth with the bitter tang of my own liquid life.

Trying very hard not to panic, or cry out in agony (though I was crying), my effort was all for nothing as a choked upon scream tried to tear it's way past my lips.

Pausing, I try to still enough so I can drag in a breath instead of just expelling it in pained grunts, hisses and muffled screams. Maybe next time, I would think things through a bit more. But I could go over that later. I had to ignore the pain now, and make it to the window.

My heart is thundering in my ears. I feel even clumsier than normal when nervous. My hands are shaking, and it's not all because of the pain, as I open the window with what strength I have left. Pausing after I pull myself out of the window halfway, I try to listen for anything out of the normal. But nothing comes. And it's now I remember that Beatrix is dead. There'd be no warning yips or yowls from below. And it takes all of my will power to not let go of the branch my left hand is holding, I had killed something, I realised as dread filled my stomach like a heavy rock. I had never killed something before now, and I didn't like the feeling I had done something so wrong.

It took me over an hour to get from the branch near my window, to the ground. There were several times I slipped and almost fell, or my injuries caused a blackout, and I found myself several branches closer to the ground than I was before. And all the time I thought I had been heard, or found out.

Finally, an eternity later, I found myself on weak legs once more on the ground. Regaining my breath and what little strength I had left, armed only with my pajama's against the elements, I started, carefully, off towards the path that would lead to the woods, that would hold the route to Goldenrod.

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"So you see what we're having to deal with?" Kelly's father said as she talked with another man around the same age as himself. The man hmmed once before nodding his head a single time.

"Yes.. such an unruely little whelp," he murmured. Then the man tapped his chin for a moment, getting a sly look on his face as he thought about something. "You know, I have a boy. My eldest child, he's still free of a marriage contract if you're looking for a man still, to tame that girl of yours."

The girl's father hesitated a moment. Probably a last shred of decency or kindness towards his progeny. Then it was gone in a blink of an eye, as he remembered how wild that child was, and how she needed to settle down and learn her place like all the other women. "Still free that boy of yours, Amon was it, Ronald?"

The man, now identified as Ronald nodded his head, "Yes, and he's turning into a fine man and trainer, and should be more than enough to help show your daughter her place, Charles."

Kelly's father, now known to be named Charles, mulled over this before nodding his head a little, "Alright. It should work, there seems to be nothing your boy can't tame or handle. And I doubt the list will begin with my daughter."

"Good. I'll start the drafting of the contract up then? And no need to worry about a dower for the girl, old friend. I know she's probably not worth what the others were asking."

Charles looked relieved as he sighed, then nodded his head before giving consent. "See you tomorrow then?"

Ronald bobbed his head as he turned to leave. And it seemed Kelly's fate was sealed… if she ever came back home.

To Be Continued