Once upon a time, in a distant past of mine, I had been a wild human.
'Wild', in its definitive state, had become a word of negative connotation and I'm not entirely sure why. They called us feral, brutish, rough and ugly. We can be told it so much that we begin to believe it. We were outlandish creatures with not-quite-rubbery skin, hair that sprouted in all the wrong places and limbs that were far too awkward and long when idle. They found it hard to tell us apart because we were all so similar. They didn't look for the varying shade of an eye, or the curve of a nose, or the structure in a jaw; apparently these nuances were too subtle, distinguishing them too much of a misuse of precious time.
Sometimes we were scrutinized (when we weren't wild): the sheen of a head of hair on a contest human, the build of a fighter, the fertility of those of us used for breeding. From time to time we relished it as flattery and then we would feel sick to our stomachs and wonder why we hung on every word they said. It often felt that without them we would be nothing; they defined us. We based our very existence through what they saw and deep down I think we all knew how wrong that was.
I was one of the many wild turned tame (or so I've been told). To be lab born or day care born is quite rare, but I would hate for that. I would know no different. I would have never had my taste of the wild and for me, although having undergone many a change in opinion over the years, 'wild' is not a negative word. 'Wild' is to run free through thickets and streams, to lie in the bed of nature, to pull on the stings of indigenous ease, to create mantras through a blade of grass, to be untouchable like the sky.
And so that is my dream: wild.
There was a brilliant flash of white when I found myself, quite suddenly, being pulled from sleep. A sensation of jarring disorientation overtook me in which I could feel myself reaching out for a physical form, grasping clumsily at nothing (and at the time my physicality was also nothing), desperately trying to stop the feeling of detachment. In less than a second I was on my hands and knees looking down at a spotless tiled floor. It was strange, for I had never seen tiles before in my life. They were peculiar – impossibly flat and cold to touch. In the past I had only ever know grass, the dirt, and the rock of the mountains. Tiles were new and that is what caused me alarm.
I felt a force, a stare, and I knew I was being watched. My heart began to pound. Then there was a shuffle, a cough. I twitched and on reflex looked up. Oh how I wish I hadn't.
I must have known what I was going to see. I remember being filled with such fear. There were pokémon, everywhere, boxing me in on all sides. There was one who stood closer – I saw the even orange scales and flickering flame of a charmander – and he watched my panic with clear look of displeasure before he averted his eyes like I was some horrible sorry display (I suppose that is how he saw me then), and he let out an irritated sigh. "And this is what happens when I pick last. I get the runt of the group."
"Ha! It's pathetic. Good Luck with becoming a Master now Blaze." It was another pokémon who spoke. He ridiculed with such ease – I wondered how someone could be so quick to be cruel – and his voice had a winey contemptuous quality. My eyes darted frantically, vision in a blur (I think I may have been crying), as I tried to locate the speaker. It was a bulbasaur – a particularly nasty looking Bulbasaur. To his side sat a human. It had been such a promising sight. I looked to him expectantly but to my despair he was cackling along with the Bulbasaur. I began crying all the more, a sight the Bulbasaur and boy found ludicrously funny. They laughed even harder while the Charmander just frowned. I had never felt so vulnerable.
For all my life, through everything I could remember, I was told pokémon were bad. They were awful spiteful creatures. I knew this. I knew this because my parents had taught me from a very young age not to approach pokémon if I should ever be unlucky enough to be near one. Now I was learning firsthand the repercussions of coming into contact with them. I was surrounded by them. In my desperation I searched the room, hoping there would be something or someone to help me. I quickly caught the eye of another human, squatting beside a squirtle. I stared at him imploringly, pleading silently, but he only looked at me sadly before gently shaking his head and turning away. He wouldn't help.
It was then, in an awful moment, that I thought I might as well be dead instead of in the clutches of a pokémon.
"Quiet now, the both of you!" someone snapped and the laughter died. Through my tears I saw a blurred shape approaching me. I shrank back but did not move away. This was mainly because of the lack of space to move to (I was backed up against a wall), but also I realised the more I resisted the worse it would be for me in the long run. Angering a pokémon never resulted in good things.
When my eyes began to clear and the pokémon before me became visible, I saw that he was a farfetch'd. I've always thought his kind looked rather odd, very out of place, with their peculiar love of green onions – his peeking out of his lab coat. This Farfetch'd had a pair of glasses that settled crookedly on his beak and that I almost found odder than the onion. It was my first time seeing pokémon in the flesh and I have to say (now that I look back on the event) that this Farfetch'd did not match up with the image I had created for them.
He reached out a feathered wing and patted my messy head of hair. I resisted the urge to recoil. "There, there, human. You are not in danger." I held my breath as he continued to pet me and when he finally removed his wing I exhaled quietly, feeling extremely relieved. He then spun to face the bulbasaur and his human, marching towards them quite angrily. He launched into a chain of reprimands, sounding quite vexed. To my right I heard the charmander click his tongue in a bored and irritated fashion. He didn't sound very happy to be here. I guess I could relate to him in that sense. I wasn't very happy either.
Slowly I began to shuffle away from the fiery pokémon and towards the other human to my left. I crawled up to him and lightly tapped his shoulder. He turned to me and I waited for him to respond but he just sat there in a biddable silence, staring at me in a way that spoke volumes of curiosity but also how much I troubled him. I couldn't quite understand his apprehension at the time. I had been the one crying.
"Hello?" I said in a nervous whisper and even with the rabble in the backgroup I was painfully aware of ever sound and movement I made. I wished for nothing less than to be able to sink into the shadows and never return. Why did I have to be so conspicuous?
"Hi." was his rather tense, concise greeting.
"This place... There are... p-pokémon." By the way he watched me I could tell he was feeling sorry for me. I didn't like that. The way his eyes were full of pity made me feel strangely shameful, like I was disgracing my species. I raised my chin just a little bit higher and forced my voice to drop its shaking and breathiness. "Please could you tell me where I am, why I'm here?"
"This is Professor Argillite's lab." he said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, "We're the starter humans given to new trainers. But then you knew that, right? I've never seen you in this lab before today. Were you transferred from another?"
There was a lump in my throat that began to form. My next words were practically choked out. "I'm not from a lab."
"A previous owner?"
I shook my head. "No."
He seemed hardly able to believe me. "But that means... You're a wild Human! But you don't look like one at all. You have cut hair and you're wearing clothes."
"What are you...?" The words died in my mouth as I looked down and saw a simple top and red shorts clinging to my frame. A whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it. "What? Why is there-?" I grasped at the material covering me, a feeling of dread settling in my stomach. They were dressing me up in the clothes captured humans wore. That could only ever mean one thing and that was a fate I did not desire. I despised the very idea of it.
"No! No! Get them off!" I shrieked, grabbing the hem of my top. I attempted to viciously rip it from my body only to be stopped by the boy.
He quickly pulled my hands away from the vest and shook me by the shoulders, almost as if that alone could snap some sense into me. "What do you think you're doing!? Don't you have any sense of decency?"
"Stop it!" I cried and pushed him away. "I don't want to wear them! I don't want to fight!"
By this time everyone else in the room had taken notice of us. Drawn over by my outcry, they surrounded the two of us as I endeavoured to remove the garments while the boy did his best to restrain me. The squirtle was the first to approach. She rushed over to the boy and started calling to him, frantically trying to get him to let go of me. "Red, stop. Please, let go of her."
"Give it up Hydra," The charmander gazed upon us two humans, distaste flickering across his features. "You won't get through to them like that. Besides, it's clearly my human who is at fault." The lizard pokémon raised a burning claw and pressed it against my arm. The heat shot through my flesh in a rush of pain and I shrieked shrilly, immediately forgetting all about the clothes I wore. The boy – Red – was startled enough to jump backwards. His eyes were wide and his mouth was parted in what must have been horror as he watched me sob and cradle my scorched wrist.
"Blaze!" Hydra yelped, just as stunned and appalled as Red was. But Blaze turned on her with a dark look that sent Hydra backing up fearfully. His tail sparked up in an inferno of rage that made it quite clear he was ready to erupt into a fit of anger.
Fortunately it was then the professor intervened. "This is quite enough! I expected you to act more mature than this. If I see this kind of behaviour again from any of you I will remove your humans and send you straight back to your parents. Understand?"
"Yes, Professor." the pokémon chorused drearily.
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Red approach me again, this time a lot more meekly. I began to retreat back but he gently took a hold of my arm and held up a green bottle. "Heal burn." he told me before settling into an uneasy silence as to not interrupt the Professor.
"Good." Professor Argillite sniffed, pushing his glasses further up his bill. He turned his attention towards me. "Now, what seems to be the problem young one?"
"The clothes! You're going to make me fight!" I answered distraughtly as Red sprayed my arm causing me to yelp. It stung quite badly but seemed to do the job.
Regrettably, I had forgotten that pokémon had never done well to understand us; replying to them was pointless really. Their tongue was easily perceivable to us and was processed effortlessly in our minds almost as if it were our own language we were hearing. But they were ignorant to our dialect. I expect living tucked away from pokémon civilization your whole life could easily let you forget things like that. I had forgotten many things in my short eleven years of life thus far.
Hydra interceded, "She was pulling at her clothes I think, Professor. Does she have a problem with them?"
"Ah... I was worried about something like this happening." The Farfetch'd said, tone heavy. "It is quite common with wild humans who have been newly captured to... behave erratically let's say. In this case we have received such a reaction."
"You've given me a wild human!" Blaze all but yelled. "When I applied for this I had been under the impression I would be received a lab raised human or at least one already broken in. Not a vulgar human with the aptitude of a rock."
"You're one to talk about vulgar Blaze." Hydra bristled, earning a snicker from the bulbasaur.
"Linden." the professor warned with a scowl directed towards the bulbasaur. "And Hydra this really isn't the right time."
"Sorry..." she mumbled shamefacedly while Linden just scowled.
"Yes, she was only recently captured." the professor continued, directing a hard look towards Blaze. "However I would be grateful if you could be understanding of the circumstance. You see, recently the other human we would be offering you suffered a serious injury in an accident... Unfortunately his injuries were past the point of healing and he died."
Hydra and Red gasped but Linden scoffed, "Jeez Hydra, don't act like your Grandma's gone and kicked the bucket. Humans die like that all the time, especially if they're weak."
"How can you say that?" She was aghast, then angry. "That's awful! You can't shrug off death like it means nothing." She was right. It was awful, though I hadn't expected anything less from a pokémon.
"He's right though. A human dying isn't uncommon." Blaze spoke callously, shrugging.
They're all the same.
Linden leered unpleasantly at Hydra, "I guess a country pokémon like you wouldn't have seen much of that. Mummy and Daddy kept you protected from it, did they? Didn't let you out into the big wide world? But now you're here they can't protect you from it. So what are you going to do? Run away?"
"Like I would!" She threw the grass pokémon a fierce look, bubbles beginning to form at her feet. I saw Red tense beside me. His expression was grim but determined, eyes fixed upon those his master gazed on with such fury. Don't tell me he's preparing to fight against that horrid bulbasaur?
The human beside the bulbasaur made a strange face when his stare met Red's. His head tilted – an invitation. His mouth curled – a display. His eyes narrowed – a threat. Red's breath against my shoulder became a growl. I shifted away from him, away from the impending fight.
"All of you calm down now!" And the tension was gone.
The professor had intervened before things got nasty, placing himself between them. "I was very serious about what I said earlier. I will take your humans away if you continue. However I know Linden was being extremely discourteous there Hydra so I will be lenient and as for you Linden... Well, you've always been a bit of a problem pokémon, from the very moment you hatched."
"What's that meant to mean old timer?!" Linden growled at the farfetch'd, but after receiving a humourless stare he quietened and settled for sulking instead.
"As I was saying, the other human we had ready has very sadly died – quite the serious topic." These words seemed to be aimed towards Linden and Blaze.
"Professor?" Hydra began timidly, "If you don't mind asking... How did he die?"
"It was all a case of bad timing and poor luck. It was a very unfortunate accident. Younger humans tend to not be as... robust, let's say, as older ones. The accident itself happened on the day the military were passing through town-"
"-I remember that!" Linden chimed in eagerly and the professor heaved a sigh. "Yes Linden, I'm sure you do."
"Yeah! I went to watch them. They were so cool! One showed me a battle scar."
"Linden, we don't care about that!" Hydra exclaimed heatedly.
"You're just jealous."
"I am not jealous! Don't be so petty."
"Petty!? What are you talking about?"
"Oh sorry." Hydra said with a smirk, an expression she didn't seem to pull very often. Linden obviously made for a special case. "Petty means to be small-minded and spiteful."
Linden's face burned in embarrassment and anger. "I know what it means!"
Blaze spoke, surprising everybody. "Shut up Linden. Listen."
He was as cold as he had been before. That was not surprising. What intrigued me was his sudden interest in the death of the human – a creature he had shown such contempt for. I cautiously made my return to a position beside Red. From there I made sure to study Blaze's expression throughout the rest of the recount.
"Oh. Thank you Blaze." Even the professor was surprised. "Ahem! Er, as I was saying... Well, there's not really much left to say. The human ran out in front of the military parade and I've heard he was causing a ruckus. That's what pokémon there said. I unfortunately wasn't present or I'm sure such a terrible thing wouldn't have happened."
The professor paused for a moment and a grim look overtook his face. "The military are not know for their restraint. They burned him. Badly. They thought he was going to attack someone. He must have been spooked by something, it's the only explanation. He was a mild-mannered human; he'd never be so vicious to attack unprovoked."
I watched him – Blaze. He didn't look shocked, happy, angry...nothing. His expression was that same stupid little scowl. I think it must have been permanently stuck to his face. It was annoying. I had expected something. Anything.
Frowning, I tore my eyes away from him and let my gaze settle on my burn – now much less red but still smarting. Blaze burned me. The military burned that boy. How horrible. It made me want to cry again. Horrible. Horrible. But that is how we were meant to live. What a pokémon says goes. No questions asked. I wished it was different.
I turned to Red. "Were you— " My voice was croaky, barley audible. I gulped, as to clear the sad lump in my throat, a lump that always developed with the suppression of tears. "Were you there when it happened?"
"No," He shook his head sadly. "I'm from a different lab. I wasn't raised here."
"Oh." I said. There was simply nothing else that could be said.
We both fell into a dour silence and only half listened to the argument that had arisen between Hydra and Linden with the professor attempting to act as peacekeeper. Blaze studied the bare walls, clearly disinterested, and the other human watched the fight unfold from the sidelines, jeering at Hydra and cheering for his master. My face contorted into a glower. I glared at the boy, disgusted. He might as well have been a pokémon.
Red followed my gaze and mirrored my expression. "That's Blue." he told me frostily.
"He doesn't seem very nice."
"He's not." Red agreed. "I've only been at this lab for a few days but that's enough for me to be sure of that."
"I'll stay away from him then." I certainly did not want to be at the mercy of someone like him.
Red's eyes were sombre as he asked me, "What if you couldn't avoid him? What if you had to fight him?"
"Why in Arceus' name would I fight him?!" I was incredulous at the time but Red's next few words stimulated an awareness I was not prepared for.
"Come on already!" His tone was surprisingly harsh. It made me flinch. "You're not some feral human now; you are captured. You will probably have to fight Blue one day. You will probably have to fight me one day. You need to get used to the idea now before it's too late."
At first I was shocked at Red's unforgiving delivery of the warning. My hurt look was enough to make him mumble an apology and say softly, "Think about it." So I did. I thought about what he had said, how he had said it, and then it occurred to me. I understood then. The austerity of it, the roughness to his voice... Saying the things I needed to know kindly would never work. Words never stuck like that. It was like the idea of sheltering a child – some protection is good but too much will make them feeble. I came to the horrible conclusion that from before that day I had been sheltered. My whole life my parents had done their very best to keep me away from anything that might have caused me upset or injury. In a secluded little cave we had lived, away from pokémon, even away from so many of my own kind. I knew nothing of the world except what they had told me.
They had not told me enough it seemed. I knew of herbs and food, trees' growth and rivers' currents, words and pictures, but they had never taught me how to be strong. If Red wasn't tough with me now, who would be? The answer to that scared me. Whoever was tough with me next would undoubtedly be someone who intended me harm. It would not be to teach me a lesson my parents failed to teach.
"Thank you." I uttered gratefully, not quite able to meet his eyes. He appeared to understand my appreciation though because he smiled at me, a small encouraging smile, and, with surprising ease, I returned it.
Edited 09.11.15