Dirt cold as the dead skin in it was before burial, and now muddy: still cold. —Slowly, but spiraling the leaves fall; while filled with life, the leaves slowly dies as the mother cries. As an all alike brother slowly dies, I cry. This damn, inconsiderate mud—like his blood! Why!? WHY!? And whatever god exists, bless me for my deeds and undisgrace his death! And just let us back separately conjoined. I don't care of consequence and that of how hard it is, we both want. Progress will never be paltry; nor will it be impeded. Arceus! Listen to my pleas as your chosen and greet me a favor: revive him!

. . . Nothing. No light, and just pure dark. Then lights—flashing of all colors—flowed over the dark, and memories rushed.

"Pikapi, . . ." him, my buddy. "Pikachu." And this, our first sign of friendship.

I remember this all like some disc filled with music, and it is not pleasant. I still remember the pain both me and Pikachu shared during the mob of spearow.

"Why do thou seek?"

That voice, "Arceus?" I whispered.

"Yes," answered the voice; then a light appeared in front of my view. "And thy pikachu, methinks, has died."

I can only nod, "Team Rocket is the cause." I told it, memory before us turning into a nightmare.

A dark sky, surrounding the full Kanto region while leaving little dusk over the moon's light. There, in a forest near Pallet is a clearing. And in the nightmare, there I stood as Pikachu fought the persian, giving commands to attack; but in vain, he got knocked with a hyper beam.

"Pikachu!" cried past me, running to him.

And then the moment that gave me nightmares. "Persian, give that boy's pikachu a new home!" yelled Giovanni, with his shit eating grin.

I was about to witness with nightmare again, but it all stopped.

"I have seen enough," the pokemon deity said, "now rest, my chosen. Tomorrow, we'll be searching for an unfortunate soul; that is a form of thanks for thy deeds."

I had conceded with fain and took rest. As for tomorrow will be best for me with Pikachu back on my chest.

Rays of sunny day slipped through the crack of fabric and landed onto my face, separating it from the dusty and gloomy room. The room didn't hold much but of a bed with a desk by it covered with a card collection of pokemon along with children drawn pokemon.

"Pika—" I stopped, remembering his death, but then also remembered the conversation that took place, and while it could be a dream; but when I saved mythical creatures from destroying the world, it could not be a dream.

"Arceus!" I hollered, not concerned about who placed me in my room.

After moments of silence, nothing came, but then, "Ready?"

I finally leaned off the bed and snatched the hat laying on the shelf next of the bed. "Hell, yes."

"Then let us of begone." It said as the room soon filled with light.

So, this is it, huh? " Woah! Isn't this place just crazy?" I told it, and it was true. White and yellow clouds, flying slowly around the area and laying on the said area was a—bunch of lockers?

"These lockers are what contain the souls." Good to know, but I hope there are no dictionary books inside.

"Interesting, but my concern is. . . how are going to find Pikachu?" I consulted.

The mythical llama shook its head, "Easy, his id tag."

"Oh?" I muttered. A smile soon made its way onto my face, "This will be easy!"

And so that's what happened. Arceus and I found the locker and revived Pikachu, and then teleported back to my room. We prattled over the entire day and soon took rest, not before waving Arceus goodbye. As soon as Pikachu fell asleep, I took action.

The walk to Veridian was short as I ran there, and as I should be exhausted, I wasn't. I have a thirst, and that is for him.

So, here is where I sit! In front of the Veridian gym.

"Time is not a patient fellow." I told myself, sneaking into the gym while carefully looking at all corners.

Good, they aren't here! But, I should sneak anyway.

And that said, time felt like a snail as it slowly reached the one hour mark. I soon found my way to his room.

"Goodbye, fucktard." I said, taking out the knife and smashing it into his head. I watched as he had a little jump, before stopping forever.

I took the knife out and stared at it, "Knife of my father, now covered with that bastard's blood. Giovanni, may everyone in your family say to you: fuck you."

I soon went back home, but this time, ready to sleep.

This was just something I pulled out of my ass. Consider it as me practicing progression. Anyway, if you somehow like this, then thanks!

Anyway, I might post more little short stories, but only time can tell! I have other things to do, such as artwork and exercising (because doc says so), and I also have homeschool (troublesome). Well, this is where I say goodbye.

Edit: I just wrote this for no reason. Didn't really take this seriously.