So I'm in college now as a Freshman and I need to get back into the groove of writing and other related projects. I thought I'd do a story with short chapters so it can take into account of a first person expedition of certain events to the character.

For those who do follow along, I want you to be aware that I may get a little lazy along the way or I may get a bit busy with whatever I'm obligated to do. Also, some chapters may even be longer at random times, but I wouldn't expect it to be in a linear pattern or over 2,500 words.

Anyway, enjoy.

Things will never be the same again.

*sniff* At least, not the way the past conveyed it. Right now I'm sitting on a log overlooking a field full of sunflowers. It's cloudy out, and the sky shines a bright gray. Heh, it's ironic. Something so beautiful in front of me—sunflowers—but the dimness above says otherwise. Guess there's really nothing truly foolproof, or perhaps a flaw to everything.

I strip the blade of grass in my paw, strand by strand, until I have a collection of shreds. *sigh* Life ends by another. I killed the grass, no more will it produce glucose. The woods beside me to the right sway and obey the winds of the world. The powerful always push the weak.

Garmoniya wasn't necessarily that perfect. I mean, the residents usually were amiable and willing to help each other, more so the smaller communities like where I'm from. Or, where I came from. But still, not everyone had the money to eat every night or support their families like the other kingdoms around Garmoniya. And the water supply from the aqueducts sometimes got contaminated with pathogens. Hell, we got used to it though and just boiled it out. I almost got to the point where I thought life couldn't get any worse or better.

. . .

I wonder what could have caused all this. The world, or Garmoniya if at smallest, is oh so silent now. The markets full of thriving Pokémon are now deserted; only knocked over kiosks and various items scattered around them. Empty towns. Empty streets. Not even a mayor or sheriff.

. . .

Hehe. I remember when my friend Wade, a riolu like me, would do this thing where he'd suddenly have a playing card appear in his hand, close it, and somehow it'd end up in my backpack I always carried things in. He jokingly called me a klepto, to where I'd dismiss him as being a klutz . . . Heh, good times.

. . .

I never was knowledgeable with my emotions. I enjoyed the simple things: being alone and enjoying my free time, thinking about ideas and imagination, wondering how to do something new, but of course I'd always get any work or duties done before recreation. I was just always like that—a reclusive, erudite, and responsible Pokémon.

*sigh* I hurt inside. I know there are others out there who are by themselves trying to live, but my friends . . . my family. They're all gone. This feeling I have . . . it's like a quilt of pain that gently lay upon my heart, suffering as if it were asphyxiation. I feel no good. No reason to even try anymore. What's the point in living if nearly everyone else didn't?

. . .

My emotions . . . I guess with that being said, I had them in a dark corner away from everything else for most of my life while the ideas and thinking participated lively in the living room.

. . .

I feel liquid forming in the bottom of my eyes. Another gust of wind passes by, and I let go. My paws bury into them, and I sob ineptly. I try to refrain from making the stupid sulking sounds, and did somewhat successfully. There were a few hiccups, but I think I'm getting used to it.

I know no one is around me, but I can't help but feel afraid of somebody who may pass up and see me like this. It'd be so embarrassing—um, not like they'd care; they'd probably have . . . other intentions.

*sniff* Ugh, I don't need to stay stationary for too long. If I do I'll start to think too much, and it will bring my mind to the past. The past . . . I hate to even bring it to topic.

But it's over, I should move on and accept that . . . but it still has its influence on the now.