(This was inspired by Ratatta's fucked-up shining sprite. WTF? It's gold, then red. Something's f-ed up there. And mix that with a sick mind, and there you are. This also says that there is a fine line for most people between beautifully unique, and disgustingly different. I have experienced both sides. Neither are much fun. I don't own pokemon.)
I am the most beautiful. And I am far more perfect than you. I am a blessed shining pokemon, a purity amongst the impure. I am one of the Beautiful People.
At least, until I evolved.
It started one night, when my trainer was primping me for another contest. Another ribbon, another chance to be admired, loved, and worshipped. For I am one of the few godly shining Rattata. My kind is common and considered vermin by most.
But I am golden. My coat shines with Mew's light. So I am prized. And as she was brushing my fur, I contemplated this. What would happen if I were to evolve? I assumed I would become better, faster, stronger, and far more beautiful.
The Beautiful People cannot be ugly; beauty's all they have. They are nothing without it. My trainer is finished. She puts my diamond collar on, and walks me out, to the admiration of trainers and pokemon alike.
Many whisper I am unique. Indeed, I am. I hold my head high as we march to Hearthome. The girl meets up with her friends, who whisper jealously about me. And why shouldn't they be jealous? I am far more perfect than their pokemon will ever be.
I am a blessed shining pokemon; they are common as the dirt on the floor. I would stand before Mew and her court themselves, and say this.
I am special. They are not.
But that can change in a heartbeat. Just like a mirror can break into a thousand pieces with one well-placed crack, so too can life shatter with just one crack.
We were fighting, my trainer and I. The girl had a Ninetales. Not Beautiful, like me. But strong. So strong, I could not beat her. I fought, and fought, as my effort grew, until I felt I would die from the strain. But I did not.
My body shifted—expanded, grew. I was more powerful now. I grinned, and found my teeth had gotten bigger. So I turned to the Ninetales, and used my Hyper Fang. We won the match, but my trainer was looking at me in disgust. "Mistress?" I called. "What is wrong?"
The two words that followed curdled in her mouth, and smarted with venom when she said them to me.
"You're ugly."
I shook my head. This was all a joke. She dragged me home, choking me with my own collar. She stormed into the house, and shoved my face into the mirror. "Look at you! You're fucking ugly! Useless, worthless!" I stared in horror.
I was red now, a dull red. No longer gold. My once-sleek body was plump and furry, and my teeth were disgustingly huge. I screeched, a harsh, grating sound. She shoved me down.
"You're worthless. Get out of my sight, freak." I ran, feeling my horrifically long nails clatter on her hardwood floor. I ran out, and away. I ran to the bridge with the water, and I flew past the trainers. I came to a stop at the tower.
The Lost Tower. Perfect for a reject like me. I strode in. Gone was my godliness; now I kept my head low, and tried not to attract attention.I went up the flights of steps, until I reached the rooftop cemetery.
In a bit of morbid humor, I imagined what it would be like if a coffin fell from the roof, and squished the people on the floor below. I stride to the edge of the wall, and look over.
But I don't jump. Instead, I turn around. I can hear a quiet sobbing in the next row of tombstones. I follow it's sound, until I come across what might've once been a girl. Her face and arms are mutilated beyond belief, covered in scars and bruises, some of which are either infected and oozing pus, or bleeding profusely. She looks at me, and blinks.
"Hello. Are you going to die, too?" I am stunned. But I nod. She smiles at me. "Really? My daddy says I'm gonna die. He says I deserve it, too." She leans towards me, as if sharing a secret.
"So's I run away. I like this place. The pokemon my daddy killed lives here. I wanna die here, near her." I am surprised at this girl's nonchalance.
"But why?" She shrugs, though the action obviously causes her pain. "Well, if I'm gonna die, might as well choose where I'm gonna die." I see she's in pain. My mind is made up.
"Jump." She looks at me in surprise. "Huh?" I nod. "It's like you said... we can choose, right? Well, would you choose to suffer?" She looks at me. And then slowly, she grins.
"Yeah. It's a good idea. Will you jump with me?" I nod, and take her hand in my twisted claw. I think I was right about choice. I chose to evolve, I chose to come here, and now I choose to die.
We walk to the edge together...
And then we fall. I always thought it'd be scary when you fell.
It's not.
It's scary when you land.
I am no longer a blessed shining pokemon. I am no longer beautiful, bones jutting out at every angle, blood all over. I am just another dead pokemon now. Just as common as the dirt on the floor.
