Remembering Squirtle
It was the beginning of summer, and the sun blazed over pallet town. A sweet breeze drifted through the air. I remember it well, considering it was so long ago. I sit on the porch of my family's house, and it's on days like this that the beginning of my pokemon journey come back to me the clearest. If I concentrate, I can remember the day, seven years ago, that I was so excited to go see the world, and maybe be free for the first time. It's on days like this that I sit back, breathe the air, and remember Squirtle.
I had been ten years old, and I was ready to go. I remember waking up on the morning I would choose. There were butterfrees in my stomach, and I was scared out of my wits. But there was no way I would let fear slow me down.
I ran down stairs, ate a hasty breakfast, gave my mom a hug, and sped out the door.
And let me tell you. One that walk over to the lab, I was nervous. Not many people succeeded on their pokémon journeys. Not all kids even got a pokémon. Not all made it back.
But I knew I would be different. I could do it. I would become a real pokémon master! I would make it to the top, and no one could stop me.
So I fought down the nerves, and every doubtful feeling. I reached the lab, and stepped inside.
"Ahh! Kelly!" I heard a voice say. "I was hoping you would show up!"
Professor Oak emerged from the back of the lab.
"You got here just in time. Your neighbor Ben's just been through. He took a pokémon with him, of course. Luckily for you, the other two are yet to be taken."
Two pokéballs sat on a table in the back of the lab.
One had a sticker in the shape of a leaf on it, and the other, one resembling a drop of water.
I knew what they were: Bulbasaur and Squirtle, of course. That meant my next door neighbor, Ben, had chosen Charmander. I thought for a moment, and reached out for the pokéball with the raindrop sticker.
I sent out the pokémon.
A Squirtle materialized before me.
"Is squirtle your choice?" Asked the professor.
I didn't need to say anything else. I had thought over my choice before hand, and I had figured squirtle would be the best way to go.
I bent down next to the pokémon.
"Hey there!" I said. "My name is Kelly, and I'm your new trainer!" I gave the little pokémon a big grin. "I'm going to call you 'Squirt'!"
I guess Squirt must've not liked his name very much, because he proceeded to send a blast of water straight into my face.
Unable to take the hint, I gave the pokémon a hug, returned him to the pokéball, and made my way out of the lab (still dripping wet).
Before I knew it, my pokémon journey had begun. I wish I knew it would be so short lived.
A few hours later, somewhere in the wilderness of route 1, I finally began to realize that my pokémon wanted nothing to do with me.
"Come on, Squirt!" I'd say. "Use tackle! Pretty please?"
The pokémon would give me a dirty look, possible sent a jet of water my way, and then curl back into his shell.
And I didn't know what to do.
This went on for a while. I would drag him along behind me, as he refused to go into his pokéball. I had no way of catching any other pokémon. Finally, I had decided to set up camp for the night, as the sun was beginning to set.
I had been just setting up camp when the first disaster happened.
We were attacked by an extremely powerful beedrill.
Of course squirt didn't listen to me. Looking back on it, I see his reasoning. He must have been perturbed by the fact that I obviously had no idea of what I was doing.
So when the fight began, the pokémon did his own thing. He ignored me completely, and simply dodged all the attacks. This worked well at first, but I could see as my little pokémon began to tire himself out. About five minutes into the fight, the beedrill managed to lodge its stinger straight into the soft spot below squirts shell.
"SQUIRT!" I yelled.
I knew I had to act fast. I grabbed my heavy bag and swung it towards the beedrill. It took damage, realized it was hurt, and flew away to mend its wounds.
I ran to my squirtle.
The wound was beginning to swell. I could see the poisen swirling purple beneath his skin.
"squirrr…" the pokémon said.
"Hang on, squirt! You'll be okay, I promise!" I said.
I took the pokémon in my arms, and looked turned towards the path, and sprinted away in the direction I knew the next town would be.
At midnight that night, I paced anxiously in the pokémon center's waiting room. I couldn't believe I had only been gone for a day, yet I had already managed to get my only pokémon severely injured.
This is all my fault, I thought. If only I were a better trainer, then maybe Squirt would listen to me more. If I were better, none of this would have happened…
My train of thought was broken, when I noticed nurse joy had approached me.
"If you'll come with me, please," said the nurse.
I followed her into a little room in the back, where I could see squirt sitting alert in a little bed.
"Squirt has recovered well," Said nurse joy. "He should be good to go in the morning. However, he is lucky you got him here in time. If you hadn't brought him here… well, things wouldn't be looking very good."
I bent down next to him.
"Hey, Squirt! I said, tears in my eyes. I pulled him into a hug. "I'm just so glad you're okay…"
And for the first time yet, the pokémon did not water-gun me in the face.
The next day, as everything was starting to look better, I made my next, and last, bad mistake.
I had left my sleeping bag and my backpack at my campsite on route one. It was my intention to return back to get them.
Squirt seemed okay with backtracking a bit, so it wasn't long before we reached the old site.
What's more, is that Squirt listened to me now! Whenever we were faced by a wild pokémon, we managed to battle as a team. Squirt did great. I was so proud to be his trainer.
I found where we had been, and had proceeded to roll up my sleeping bag, When I heard a buzzing behind me.
When I turned around, I saw the beedrill I had wacked with my back pack before. It looked injured, but not much. And it was angry.
And it had brought friends.
We stood facing a horde of at least thirty beedrill, all angry and wanting revenge.
I knew there was no way to fight. I looked at my pokémon. He looked scared, but gave a little nod. I understood. We both took off running.
We ran for what felt like forever, the beedrills close on our tail. We were forced to go off the path, and were now running through the thickly wooded area that had surrounded us before. I wasn't sure how far we ran, but at one point, the horde caught up.
But for some reason, they didn't target me. I was human, and I can assume they only went for other pokémon.
I could only watch as the horde descended upon squirt, stinging him many times before flying away.
"SQUIRT!" I said. And I ran to him. He had been stung so many times… I was scared. I was terrified. How could I help him? I knew the situation was bad. I didn't know if I could do anything, and that sensation of helplessness nearly drove me insane
"You'll be okay, you'll be okay," I said, cradling him in my arms. "I promise I'll get you out of this, I promise you'll be okay,"
Tears streamed down my cheeks. I didn't know where we were. We were lost, and there was nothing I could do.
"Squirt…" I said.
And the wind blew gently. It was beautiful that day, mocking the fact that everything had gone wrong…
And as I sat there, begging him to hold on, the poison took over. My little pokémon closed his eyes.
There wasn't really much that happened, after squirt died, nothing of significance anyway. We had a nice memorial service. It didn't seem fitting, though, already having to say goodbye to the pokémon I didn't have a chance to get to know.
What happened to me? Well, nothing. I went back to pallet town. Returned to school. I'm on the way to becoming a doctor now. I never got another pokémon. I had missed my chance. That's how our society works: not everyone can succeed in their pokémon journey. Not all can make it back, and it's those that fail who grow up to be teachers, doctors, and other important civilians in our world.
But there's not a day that goes by that I don't think about my journey, mourning the days that never got to be. In a way it's what keeps me going.
I will never forget him, though. I would never forget about squirt. I find it unfair that his life seemed so small. Like me, he never got the chance to grow.
But there's one place that I can honor him now. And though I hate to say it, that place is only within me. Within my mind, and within my heart. At times, just thinking about the pokémon can almost make me convince myself that I am happy.
All I have to do is remember my Squirtle. And its not fair, but I know now that its true. Never forgetting is the best way to keep something alive. Memory is whats important.
And squirt lives on in mine.
