The lights of the town brought colour to the pure white snow. The empty street was covered with a fluffy layer, burying my legs up to the ankles whenever I take a step. The objects that fell on to the ground didn't seem like snow, it was as if they were cotton.
The wind picked up speed, hitting my face as if it was dipped in ice cold water. I sneezed at the sudden gust but was otherwise fine despite the lack of proper clothes for winter. The shoes hardly protected my feet from the cold. It was worn down very bad, and had a tiny little hole on the sole. Underneath this jacket was a simple black shirt, which did very little in keeping me warm.
After a while, I stopped in front of an empty lot. On the porch of the lot, there was a sign that read 'Lot for Sale', with large red letters.
"It was snowing, wasn't it?" Pikachu, who was sitting on my shoulder, said aloud.
"Yeah..." I replied and stared at the lot. It was empty, as it had been immediately cleaned after a few months the fire transpired, leaving no grim reminder of what happened several years ago. There was only a thick blanket of snow.
I said, "Bit lonely, don't you think?"
Pikachu nodded, but didn't answer.
Then, silence.
...
With great reverence, I bowed my head slightly. Pikachu followed suit, although he went the extra mile and used his two paws in a gesture that looked like he was praying.
"Do you even know what you're doing?" I asked in a soft tone.
"I get the gist behind it and besides, it's the thought that counts." he replied with a shrug of his shoulder.
I smiled at him before returning back to the task at hand.
Actually, now that I'm here I really don't know what to say.
"Mom..."
Really.
It was strange how a single word can make you remember things. Whether I wanted it, or not, memories began flooding my head, and I was overwhelmed. My knees buckled under my weight, and I fell down on my butt. Pikachu looked at me in a worry but I waved him off.
"It's okay, just... slightly overwhelmed. That's all."
Pikachu nodded and returned back to his pose.
I closed my eyes, where my memories were much more pronounced and vivid. Memories of when I woke up with a hearty meal made by Mom. Memories of where she constantly reminded me of my underwear. Memories that, not too long ago, were taken for granted.
Memories, where everything was right with the world.
I opened my eyes, but strangely I wasn't back to where I was earlier. But instead, I was what looked to be a prison cell.
Brock was standing in front of me, not bothering to meet my stare. His body was trembling, not out of fear but rather, of anger. Understandable, given the situation that I am in. If there wasn't steel bars that separated the two of us he would've decked me square on the jaw. Still, despite what his body language might say at least he came here to visit me, unlike the others.
"So, where're the others?" I heard myself speak.
"They didn't want to come. Everyone's afraid of you, Ash." He said without giving me a glance.
Silence.
It lasted for a few minutes, the only sound being the breaths that we inhaled and exhaled.
Brock broke the silence first. "Ash, why?" he glared at me, looking at me for the first time since he came here.
It was a simple question, really. It was vague, for some of the people that didn't know but to me it was crystal clear. Behind those two words, were the questions of 'Why did you stab Mrs. Ketchum?', 'Why did you hurt Professor?' and among others.
And my answer to those questions would be the same.
"I don't know, Brock." I sighed and admitted, "I really don't know."
He slammed his fists on the bars, making it vibrate. "I know when you're lying to me, Ash Ketchum!"
I continued to stare at him, unwavering. "Like I said, I don't know." I was shocked of how calm and collected my voice was. "I could tell you the complete details of how I killed her." Lies. "The hour, the minutes and the second. I could even tell you what kind of weapon I used when I killed her." More lies. How much blood had spurted from her first stab wound. How she fell down on the second stab wound."
"Stop."
And the biggest lie. "I could even tell you how I ripped off her clothes and-"
"STOP!"
I stopped for a while, before continuing. "But even if I tell you all of those, I still couldn't tell you why I killed Mom."
Brock didn't say anything but turned around on his heels and walked out. "Fuck you." He said without halting his stride. "Fuck you Ash Ketchum."
I smiled at him. "Thanks for talking to me, Brock."
He didn't reply and slammed the door shut. For the first ten minutes, I didn't do anything. I didn't move, I didn't open my eyes. All I did was breathe in and out as deeply as I can.
It was a half-baked effort in trying to calm myself, and I knew it. Despite people telling you to breathe deeply when you're in a panic, it hardly worked.
As such, the emotion that I've been suppressing since I saw Brock had overwhelmed me. I felt my tears cascading down my face, and my shoulders shaking.
Sobs, weeping and crying.
It was a success, Giovanni.
I just made myself the enemy of my friends.
I shook my head and the vision blurred, and very slowly my vision returned back to where I was earlier. Pikachu was deep in concentration, not noticing my reverie.
Sighing, I stood up and stared at the lot.
I still didn't know what to say to Mom.
"If you're really worried about what to say, why not give thanks?" Pikachu suggested as he finished what he was doing. "I think the dead would appreciate it, wouldn't they?"
"Yeah, you're right." So with a quick bow, I said, "Thank you, for everything."
And sorry, for what I have done and what I'm about to do.
I pulled out a pokéball from my belt and let out an Alakazam. It looked at me, waiting for a command.
"Care to teleport us home?"
It nodded before crossing its spoon. Suddenly, I felt a slight vertigo before my vision turned white.