Jaded - Prologue
A clack of her stilettos and a puff of her cigarette—her sunglasses gleamed in the white-blue daylight.
I stared up in disbelief at my mother, as she nudged forwards the little creature towards my feet. Kneeling down, I picked up the small Pokémon in my arms – with some difficulty, as it was far heavier than it looked – and looked back up at the cold reflection of her sunglasses.
"That's your turtwig from now on."
She stressed on the 'your' in a way that I didn't like so much. But to be honest, there were a lot of things that I didn't like about her; her hair, her shades, her stilettos, her smoking, her formal, expensive attire, her jacket, her surprisingly good cooking, her personality, her miraculously youthful beauty, her complete inability as a parent.
Yes, there were too many things about my mother that I disliked, sometimes I wondered if I deserved to be her daughter.
I'd anticipated this moment with growing dread from the day she had led me into the Pokémon Centre and had asked (more like ordered) Nurse Joy to prepare me for a life as a trainer. I was absolutely sure that I didn't want to be a trainer, unlike all the other kids my age. I didn't even like Pokémon in the first place. But from that day onwards, I'd kept all of my complaints to myself and had quietly followed her words to the letter.
I was stupid, twisted enough to keep on loving such a mother. I would most likely be stupid enough to love her until the day I died. Maybe even beyond death.
She dropped a cold, newly manufactured poké ball into my arms—the turtwig's.
"Bag?" she asked curtly.
I balled my hands into fists so hard that it hurt.
"…It's packed."
"I see."
It was never 'good' or 'OK' or 'that's fine' – it was always 'I see'.
She dropped the cigarette and ground it out firmly with the sole of her stiletto. Then she turned on her heel and walked briskly away, sparing me one last sentence.
"I expect the house empty when I get back."
I tightly gripped the confused turtwig and took in a deep breath.
Stepping out of the doorway, I faced her back with my mind drowned in red.
"I HATE YOU!"
Clack!
She stopped.
"You—you miserable old HAG‼ I'll never come back ever again‼"
For one, terrible moment, I thought she would turn back. She would turn back, eyes cold and flaring, and she would torture me until I bled for such an insult—perhaps it would've felt better if she had.
I was stupid enough to love such a mother after all.
Without a trace of acknowledgement, she swept out of corner of the apartment walkway.
Wiping away whatever dropped out of my eyes swiftly with the hem of my sleeves, I calmed the sadly whining turtwig and shuffled back into the apartment to get ready. If I would ever come back again, I didn't know, but it was best to be prepared.
By the next hour, I was already out of Jubilife.
Notes: My English is rather half-baked, as it is my second language, so good, constructive criticism and handy pointers are always appreciated.
