My name is Esmeralda. Well, Esme for short.
I'm a Gardevoir. You know… the Embrace Pokémon. Green hair, long flowing skirt, red chest spike, one of the top two Pokémon targeted by Poképhiles… the works.
Well, it's a rainy day, and I have a laptop with Microsoft Word on it. And I have had a rather interesting life, so perhaps this is a sign from Arceus to start writing. Maybe this will be the biggest thing to ever hit the internet, maybe I'm talking to no-one, as I will delete this file as soon as I'm finished. But for now, I think I'll just continue to write and see what happens.
My name is Esmeralda, and this is my story.
My earliest memory is from when I was a Ralts, back in the forests surrounding Route 203 of Sinnoh. I never had much of any friends, mainly spending my time around home climbing trees and chasing Bug types. But things got interesting once my brother was born.
His name is Timothy. Born on the 12th of May, sometime towards the evening. I remember holding him when he emerged from his egg, confused and so small, so innocent… Even now, grown into a handsome Gallade, I can't bear to let him out of my sight. I care for him too much.
I guess I wanted to care for him enough for the both of us. The care that mother and father never gave.
I am, to put it simply and blatantly, the result of a bunch of punks from Jubilife City leaving alcohol in the forest, and the Pokémon got to it. My father and mother were both Gardevoirs. My mom… wasn't as bad as my father, in the long run. I hold no ill will against her. She stuck around for a while to take care of me, but gave up and left soon after Tim was born. I don't know where she is now, nor do I care to know, any more than I care to know how my father is doing as of late.
My father, now, was and probably still is a right piece of work. He soon acquired a taste for alcohol and became an active drunkard, and not the peaceful kind either. Add in a foul temper and a wicked slap to the face almost randomly and you got the hellish nightmare that I and my brother put up with the first year of our lives.
He was a womanizer to boot. Even while mother was around, he sleazed and wheedled his way into other one-night-stands. I probably have more than one biological brother, but I wouldn't know.
Probably the only good thing he taught us, and it isn't even considered a good thing in the long run, is how to work together to play out a distraction while the other picks the pockets and steal money and other valuables from passing trainers.
Nowadays, we're doing much better. We've evolved into strong and capable Pokémon under a very caring trainer… as quick-tempered as she is. I myself am married to a wonderful, compassionate Pokémon. A wonderful father to our firstborn son. But that is another story for another time.
For now, how about the time I met Tim for the first time?
It was a particularly nice day. Most days had been nice so far, since the snow had melted and spring had come into full bloom. I was enjoying the warmer weather. Laying in the sunshine and watching the birds nest and call to their mates.
It was then that I had noticed that the egg that I was caring for had started to glow.
It was glowing in short, frequent bursts. I was so excited, I sat up and held it closer, willing it to hatch. I wanted it to hatch so badly. Would I have a brother? Would I have a sister? I had no way of knowing.
The glowing had grown brighter and more and more frequent. The egg shook and trembled in my arms as something fought its way to get out.
It glowed a final time, and shattered.
At first, I was terrified. Had something gone wrong? Where was it? Was… was it dead?
But something grabbed my hand from the light, and as it faded, it was revealed to be a tiny male Ralts.
If you've never seen a newborn baby Ralts before, you're missing out on life. Say all you'd like, but when you are the one being gazed at in such awe, such wide-eyed wonder and adoration by your baby brother in your arms, reaching up towards you, you'll know how I felt that moment.
I stayed with him that first night. Rocking him to sleep and cooing lullabies I remember hearing other Pokémon singing to their offspring. Timothy. It seemed as good a name as any. I could call him Timmy for short.
Timmy. My baby brother. My own little pride and joy.
But the hour is late, and I grow weary. I may write more soon, but for now… I bid you all a fond goodnight.