There are babies that are born with both parents, some only one, and some none. There sat a newborn Goomy with his mother, smiling in joy. The mother had always taken care of him alone, never once seeing his father. As the days have gone by, the Goomy learned to move around on his own, and the mother watching him move, cheering him on.

Everyday was a happy day to the Goomy, the world around him fascinated him. He always wanted to see the outside world on his own, leaving the wooden home he lived in. One day, his mother made him a lovely, bright blue scarf to cover his birthmark. He loved the scarf, it was warm and snugly to him. He never took it off, never.

His mother smiled and said, "That scarf was given to me when I was born, and I believe it should be given to you my son." Her voice was calm and sweet. A soothing tone all the time. She was always positive.

Weeks have passed and there was a knock on the door. The mother stands up from her chair and opens the door. The little Goomy watched as his mother opened the door, and a gush of red splattered on the ground. The Goomy saw his mother fall on the ground, the figure from the door was gone. The mother weak from a stab on her heart says her final words, "Stay positive Patrick, or may the dark quickly overcome you. Now run, run before anything bad happens."

The Goomy listened to his dying mother and ran outside. As he did the home burst into flames, the red flames of the wooden house burns and crashes. Patrick looked at his home burn, nearly everything he had. The only thing he had left was the scarf. The scarf that kept him from falling to his inner darkness.

Days go by, Patrick was all alone, no one to care for him. No one to feed him. No one to encourage him. No one to keep him safe. He wandered the swampy land that was around him, searching for food and water. He wanders for hours till he comes across a tree with Pecha Berries all over. He saw one lying on the ground and waddles towards it.

As he reaches the berry, he heard a rustle in a bush. Frightened, he stood there shaking, unable to move. A young boy comes out holding a red and white ball Patrick had never saw before. The boy walks up to Patrick with a kind smile on his face. "Why are you alone out in this swamp ya little Goomy?" the boy told Patrick.

Patrick was never taught how to speak. All he could say were little noises that was unidentifiable to any being except his mother. He tries to talk to the boy and the boy looks at him in confusion, Patrick could not even do the cry of a Goomy, only gibberish.

"Huh? Are you a newborn?" the boy asked. In response, Patrick noded. The boy maneuvered the mysterious ball towards Patrick. He placed it in front of him for Patrick to choose. "You wanna join me on my journey? I promise to take care of you, at the bottom of my heart," the boy told Patrick. "And maybe we can find your parents along the way" When Patrick heard that, he remembered what had happened days ago. At first he hesitated, and his scarf dancing with the wind.

He tapped his head against the ball, and was materialized into it. It shook 3 times, then a ding could be heard. He was caught. A few moments later, the boy sent out his freshly caught Goomy and Patrick materializes in front of the boy. Patrick went up to the boy and nuzzled his leg, "Whoa there little guy, we just barely started our adventure together. Are you ready then?" Patrick nodded again and looked very happy to go somewhere out there in the world.

Weeks later the boy and Patrick go all over the Kalos region, battling, eating, and caring for each other everyday. Patrick grew more, learning simple speech, knowing battle strategies, knowing his own moves. He slowly leveled up and slowly began to know more about himself. He realized he liked the flow of battle, the adrenaline, a way to release his anger, a way to have fun, a way to test himself. He loved the feeling of victory, he liked to win all battle. However, he had shown respect to the Pokémon who would beat him. Patrick grew attached to the young boy.

Years went on, both the boy and Patrick grew up. Patrick was no longer a baby, but now a child, becoming a Sliggoo. The boy started to drift away from Patrick, but still kept him out of the Pokéball and showing affection. Patrick hugged the now teenage boy with his stubby arms everyday to show his affection. Soon the Sliggoo was now just existing with the trainer, but still saw him as a father figure.

Another year passed, Patrick grew level 49. The boy and Patrick visited his old home, the burnt down home was charred and black all over, no living thing resided there. The rain poured, making the black home even darker. Patrick looked at his home and was fed a rare candy from the boy. He glowed very bright, his body morphed, looking more bipedal than a snail. The boy looked in awe as Patrick evolved. The boy looked at Patrick and shouted, "Oh my! You are turning into a Goodra!"

Patrick stood up, all silent. He wasn't amused at his advances, and he felt like he was just a waste of life that day. Everything got darker, the light fades away. Night time crawls in and the duo stood there silent. Lightning strikes in the night sky, generating light every few seconds. The young boy nudged Patrick's arm. Patrick gloomily looked at the boy, his face unchanging. The boy looked at Patrick in woe, the boy looked back with a blank face. Patrick saw the boy was pale and colder than before.

The boy slid off his side, cold, limb, and dead. Patrick's expression changed from being all doom and gloom, to pure lament. Patrick kneeled over his dead partner, the blood covering his body. Patrick's eyes swelled up with tears. He had lost the only one he loved, again. Patrick was all alone again. No one to love or care for him. He had no one.

He swore to himself not to throw a punch again, not to hurt anyone in front of him. But only help. Help people who suffered like him, to help people who never had anyone with them, to help the ones in need the most. After he buried his once alive partner, he left in search for education. One that will help him in life the most. He heard of a school only known as The Pokemon International Institute, a school for all Pokemon and Pokehumans to attend. He set of to find this school, no matter the distance. And one day, he found it, and from that day forward, he never left the school, it was the place he truly called home.

Lament:

1. (N) A passionate expression of grief or sorrow

2. (V) To mourn (a person's lost or death)

Pokemon International Institute Amino Link: /c/pokemon-school

All Pokemon named in this story is owned by Nintendo, but the character named is owned by me.

I hope you guys join on in, the school is very fun and you will likely enjoy it.