It was bound to happen, I suppose.
Rain. Constantly, rain was falling from the heavily guarded sky above. Threatening clouds loomed overhead, and they had no intent on leaving.
I am different. I must accept that.
The forest's trees were the only thing protecting him from getting soaked by the endless waterfall above.
Though, perhaps that is my destiny. Ignored. Alone. Abandoned. Tossed aside as if I deserve no care. No love.
It was the peak of the afternoon.
I am different. I am not the same as the others, so that means I am to be shunned. Apparently. I do not understand why, and I don't think I ever will.
His legs were too tired to continue. He fell to the base of the tree and rested, wondering how he was supposed to survive.
I am deformed. Incomplete. Though I don't possess the skills others like me have, must I be forgotton?
His thoughts turned to the events earlier that day.
The elder, yelling at me. My friends, turned against me. My mother, crying. My father, absent from the entire ordeal. I was forced to leave. I wasn't allowed to remain with my clan, my friends...my family. I wasn't allowed to take anything of mine with me. I suppose I should be thankful I escaped with my life. All of this because I told whom I thought was my closest friend about my disability...Yet, I hold no hatred. Regret and grudges will only burden me. In this maze of a forest, anger will only cloud my vision all the more. It is time. I must continue fleeing. They may still be after me.
He dusted the dirt off of his shivering, damp body, and continued walking. Hearing the cries of birds only discouraged him more as he thought about how nice it would be to have the ability of flight. He could then free himself of the clan that may still be hunting for him, and possibly find refuge, somewhere he would be accepted. As his mind grasped tightly around the fact that such is impossible, a disheartened sigh escaped him as he continued trudging onward.
A strangely large fur tree snipped at his attention. He observed the details of it. The rough wood trickled through the hand that was rubbing it. He felt the soft, thin leaf that had dropped to the ground, which helped comforted his soul, though nothing could mend his broken spirit. He spotted but a tiny insect, having slipped off of the wet bark, and landed on it's back, unable to move. It's legs raced through the air to no avail. He carefully lay his hand near it, allowing the legs to grasp onto it. When they had, the insect quickly took flight, blowing away into the dense brush that lay ahead.
Such innocence.
He continued pacing through the muddy trail.
I wonder what it's like to be truly free. The heavenly sun, warming your very soul, with friends joyfully enjoying each other's company. Yet...I must accept that this may never be a reality to me. I may never know what it's like to have friends around me. Anymore. ...Betrayal. Through torch's blaze and spear-point of a weapon, nothing can cut so deeply as being betrayed. Perhaps I am angrier than I thought.
He chuckled to himself.
But must I despise myself for being so? I've been accepted, welcomed, greeted, every day of my life whilst I was in that clan. Surely having my trust turned around is something to become, at the least, the slightest hint angered about.
"Oh, cool! A Pikachu!"
Hm? What is this? A...human?
"I'm gonna capture you! Go, Sentret!"
He looked up and down this human who was standing in his way. A red baseball cap on his head. A rain-coated yellow T-shirt over his body.
Capture? What is it that you shall gain by enslaving me?
Brown shorts. Black shoes.
Do you wish me to fight along side you? Or do you intend to harm me?
"Sentret! Let's use Tackle, and get us a new friend!"
Friend? You wish to befriend me? I am sorry. I cannot be accepted by my own kind, so I shall not be accepted by humans. I have no interest in entering the sport of battle, be it friendly or not. Perhaps your search will be better off elsewhere.
He turned to another direction and left quietly. The Trainer's reaction of him doing so meant nothing to him.
I do not understand. What do humans receive from trapping us in small orbs? Perhaps they enjoy watching us get harmed in battle.
The grass in his path thickened. He put his thoughts aside, mindful of other creatures that may attack him. He was able to escape the tall weeds without hindrance; however, his ears perked at the sound of wings flapping loudly nearby. He turned his head around to see a flock of Spearow, being led by a war-torn Pidgeotto, flying towards him in the distance. Rather than react, he stayed motionless, carefully observing them.
...It is true. They wish to harm me. Very well. They have done nothing to me, so I shall wait...
The birds' flying was a much faster form of travel than his walking, thus they quickly caught up to him. Upon encircling him, some of them began pecking at him with their beaks. Others charged up for a strong aireal attack. The leader of the group stayed hovering in the air, watching, carefully waiting.
He was unguarded. Defenseless...Hopeless. The onslaught of attacks was too much for his body to handle. His very skin began getting torn off, causing blood to jump into the air as he was hit, sent rolling across the dirty ground. His arm twitched as he could feel the crucial-to-life liquid flowing down his face in a crooked line.
If only he had never told anybody of his ailment. If only he lived in a different place. If only he had stayed with that Trainer. If only...
The Pidgeotto shrieked, garnering everybody's attention. Suddenly, they began flying away, some very reluctant. Disgusted that they never had a turn to attack the dying creature themselves. The same creature that laid on the ground motionlessly. Starving for both, physical food, and spiritual. For the first time in many years, tears came to his eyes. Slowly, painfully, they collided with the blood that was also streaked across his face.
No longer do I have a mother to bandage my wounds...No longer, a father to teach me how to defend myself...No longer, friends to help me...I am...alone.
His thoughts faded. His eyes shut. With his last ounce of strength, he told himself that he no longer had to worry about the future...for the end was here.