The Party I'm Not Invited To
Things are simple where I live. There are grand grassy fields and great climbing trees. The weather is always perfect. It's warm with a cool breeze…or cool with a warm breeze. It's never too hot or too cold. It's never too dark, either. On most nights, the moon glows really bright. On new moons, the area is illuminated by the Pokémon nearby. They are so friendly and so helpful. They sing to me sometimes too.
Every day feels similar, and that doesn't bother me. Every so often, the Pokémon of the area would do something new and interesting to keep me from getting too bored. We didn't speak the same language, but I felt perfectly in sync with them.
They took care of me, y'know. For as long as I can remember, there would be a faint glow in my room of the little cabin on the edge of the grassy meadow. Different kinds would light it up, changing the color of the walls with their flickers. Sometimes gold, sometimes blue, sometimes a shade of vermillion. Nights that got too quiet, when the bugs would not play, my friends would sing. It was all okay. There was never any danger. In fact, after some years, I began to sleep in a hammock they set up for me on the edge of the trees.
I was happy. I can't remember a time I wasn't happy…unless you count that one recurring event. I've never had a birthday party. At least, I didn't have one the way one would expect. My friends would gather and hug me and dance for me and more. There was no cake or presents though…not in boxes. I had no regular friends that would venture out here. I had never seen another person up close, come to think of it.
By early evening on that day, I would hear excited cries from somewhere far off in the distance. I'd sit on the branch of my favourite climbing tree to watch, wondering who was having the "better" party. It must have been a grand one. Whoever that other kid was, he or she was obviously a lot more popular than I was. It made me feel a little sad. Why didn't that kid invite me? I lived close enough to hear the party, yet he or she never invited me. I never even saw this kid. I just knew that the parties must have been fun. There were so many children that would scream and cry out with high pitched joy.
I don't blame them, really. My friends and I played games all the time, and it was such fun. So, I could only imagine the fun the kids at the party had when they would play games. I was never invited, though. I know they knew I was there. I knew because the party would always end with the same grand finale, and it never seemed to get old for those kids. The host was always so generous, it seemed. Everyone got a party favour to take home with them. I knew this because it was always the same favour every year.
Every evening on that day, just as the sky began to turn a creamy colour of orange and pink, a cloud would rise from somewhere in the distance, wherever that party was being held. At the end of the party, everyone would let out such a wild and chaotic cheer as balloons were released into the air. Not every one of them had an owner, but several did. I always knew how many kids were at the party by this time. They'd hang onto the balloons and stare down at me, screaming out something unintelligible in their joy and waving frantically at me as they sailed across the sky.
One day, I'll find out who that kid is. It's the only thing in my perfect world that bugs me. I want to meet him…or her. I want to get to know this person…so that maybe one day…I could come to the party on the birthday we both share.
Maybe I'll get a balloon of my own to sail me across the sky. After all, if I remember correctly...the first time was a lot of fun.