Dye
Quill Xarxes
Warning, this may be quite a depressing story for some. I was pretty sad writing it, but I think it's a good story.
James stood and watched in horror at the scene that shown before him.
A young boy, just recently having turned 11, laying face-down in a puddle of his own blood.
The boy would have been a very promising Poke'mon trainer. If he would have survived the previous tragic ordeal, he could easily have become a Poke'mon master.
But that wasn't the worst thought on James' mind. It was the fact that the poor boy's wounds were inflicted by a weapon that James himself had unwielded, swung, and was now holding.
It wasn't the thought that he might get caught by the police, nor the fact that he was probably going to get kicked out of Team Rocket for desertion, it was the fact that he had just actually taken the life of a human being. One whom had all his dreams slashed away in a splash of red dye on his 11th birthday.
James relayed the tragic afternoon in his head. He had just been whacked upside the forehead with a fan by his partner, Jessie. He was used to that.br
As normal, James decided to sleep off his headache. The only place suitable for sleeping at the time was a nearby pile of bushes.br
He lain silently in the bushes, listening to the Spearows, when he overheard his partner say something that shattered his very soul to pieces.
"I wish I'd never met him."
"No." James thought to himself, "She has to be talking about someone else." He started to quiver, and tears started to stream down his face.
"Meowth?" Jessie said, "I don't think I can handle James anymore. I'm going to leave him here. I wish I'd never met him."
"I wish I'd never met him." The words echoed over and over through James' mind like he was stuck in a metal room with noone to help him out. This woman, whom James had called his best friend for over five years, wishes they had never met each other.
James couldn't handle the unimaginable pain he felt after hearing those six words, "I wish I'd never met him." He lept from his spot in the bushes, took one last sad glance at Jessie, and stormed through the woods, blinded by his tears, and hoping to find somewhere to hide from everything.
After James ran for what seemed like hours, but was actually only 3 minutes, he lost his footing and dove headfirst into a creek. All his makeup (yes, all you fyi dudes, James wears makeup) streamed off his face, leaving it soft and plain. This made him even sadder.
You see, years of being a mislead rogue gave James the impression that, without his shiny uniform and makeup, he was nothing. A loser. Just some gutter rat who should be stealing from a candy shop, not commiting armed Poke'mon robbery. And not worth a second glance.
Another detail was also quie evident as James looked down the creek. A stream of blue dye was drifting down the water. He grabbed his hair, and found that the chemicals from the creek, added by a factory upstream, was stripping the dye off his hair. Where his wild blue hairstyle was a minute before, were shiny black locks.
To any normal person, James' hair was breathtaking. It was jet-black, no impurities other than the rich white sunlight that reflected off of it. But James saw himself differently.
"No wonder Jessie hates me." he said to himself, "I'm a worthless ugly freak! Why did I ever think I could impress anyone?!" He hit his reflection in the water, and turned away. He couldn't bear to look anymore.
Suddenly, James thought he couldn't take it anymore. He dove his face in the water, and tried to inhale. But something he couldn't explain kept him from doing it.
So he raised his head above the water, "I really am a failure. I can't even kill myself."
He just stayed silent for a moment, annoyed by his very existence. But soon, the silence was broken by the eary sounds of Royal Mew Death Calls.
James panicked, "The Royal Mew! What can I do?!"br
You see, The Royal Mew and Team Rocket have never gotten along. The Royal Mew is savage, they'll kill any rocket they come accross. And there James was in the open!
James got up as quickly as he could, but was surrounded by members of the Royal Mew.
Remembering what he had learned in the bike gang, James pulled a blade out of his belt and swung it at anyone who came close.
The Royal Mew didn't quit. They made their death calls, and James was helpless. He gave up, closed his eyes, and got ready to die.
There was complete silence in the air for what seemed like hours. Then James felt something touch his shoulder.br
He swung his blade around and stood to see that the Royal Mew was already gone. He heard a thud, and turned to see the body of Ash Ketchum, only 11, in a puddle of his own blood.
And that brings us back where we began. A young boy, only 11, killed accidentally out of self-defense, by a young man, only 17, with a criminal record and noone around to prove his story. He dropped his blade, fell to his knees, and grabbed his ebony hair, angered and frightened at what he'd done. More tears streamed down his cheeks, falling on the bleeding red R on his shirt.
Then, James felt another hand on his shoulder. He heard an unfamiliar voice, "It's OK. I saw the whole thing, and it wasn't your fault."
Quill Xarxes
Warning, this may be quite a depressing story for some. I was pretty sad writing it, but I think it's a good story.
James stood and watched in horror at the scene that shown before him.
A young boy, just recently having turned 11, laying face-down in a puddle of his own blood.
The boy would have been a very promising Poke'mon trainer. If he would have survived the previous tragic ordeal, he could easily have become a Poke'mon master.
But that wasn't the worst thought on James' mind. It was the fact that the poor boy's wounds were inflicted by a weapon that James himself had unwielded, swung, and was now holding.
It wasn't the thought that he might get caught by the police, nor the fact that he was probably going to get kicked out of Team Rocket for desertion, it was the fact that he had just actually taken the life of a human being. One whom had all his dreams slashed away in a splash of red dye on his 11th birthday.
James relayed the tragic afternoon in his head. He had just been whacked upside the forehead with a fan by his partner, Jessie. He was used to that.br
As normal, James decided to sleep off his headache. The only place suitable for sleeping at the time was a nearby pile of bushes.br
He lain silently in the bushes, listening to the Spearows, when he overheard his partner say something that shattered his very soul to pieces.
"I wish I'd never met him."
"No." James thought to himself, "She has to be talking about someone else." He started to quiver, and tears started to stream down his face.
"Meowth?" Jessie said, "I don't think I can handle James anymore. I'm going to leave him here. I wish I'd never met him."
"I wish I'd never met him." The words echoed over and over through James' mind like he was stuck in a metal room with noone to help him out. This woman, whom James had called his best friend for over five years, wishes they had never met each other.
James couldn't handle the unimaginable pain he felt after hearing those six words, "I wish I'd never met him." He lept from his spot in the bushes, took one last sad glance at Jessie, and stormed through the woods, blinded by his tears, and hoping to find somewhere to hide from everything.
After James ran for what seemed like hours, but was actually only 3 minutes, he lost his footing and dove headfirst into a creek. All his makeup (yes, all you fyi dudes, James wears makeup) streamed off his face, leaving it soft and plain. This made him even sadder.
You see, years of being a mislead rogue gave James the impression that, without his shiny uniform and makeup, he was nothing. A loser. Just some gutter rat who should be stealing from a candy shop, not commiting armed Poke'mon robbery. And not worth a second glance.
Another detail was also quie evident as James looked down the creek. A stream of blue dye was drifting down the water. He grabbed his hair, and found that the chemicals from the creek, added by a factory upstream, was stripping the dye off his hair. Where his wild blue hairstyle was a minute before, were shiny black locks.
To any normal person, James' hair was breathtaking. It was jet-black, no impurities other than the rich white sunlight that reflected off of it. But James saw himself differently.
"No wonder Jessie hates me." he said to himself, "I'm a worthless ugly freak! Why did I ever think I could impress anyone?!" He hit his reflection in the water, and turned away. He couldn't bear to look anymore.
Suddenly, James thought he couldn't take it anymore. He dove his face in the water, and tried to inhale. But something he couldn't explain kept him from doing it.
So he raised his head above the water, "I really am a failure. I can't even kill myself."
He just stayed silent for a moment, annoyed by his very existence. But soon, the silence was broken by the eary sounds of Royal Mew Death Calls.
James panicked, "The Royal Mew! What can I do?!"br
You see, The Royal Mew and Team Rocket have never gotten along. The Royal Mew is savage, they'll kill any rocket they come accross. And there James was in the open!
James got up as quickly as he could, but was surrounded by members of the Royal Mew.
Remembering what he had learned in the bike gang, James pulled a blade out of his belt and swung it at anyone who came close.
The Royal Mew didn't quit. They made their death calls, and James was helpless. He gave up, closed his eyes, and got ready to die.
There was complete silence in the air for what seemed like hours. Then James felt something touch his shoulder.br
He swung his blade around and stood to see that the Royal Mew was already gone. He heard a thud, and turned to see the body of Ash Ketchum, only 11, in a puddle of his own blood.
And that brings us back where we began. A young boy, only 11, killed accidentally out of self-defense, by a young man, only 17, with a criminal record and noone around to prove his story. He dropped his blade, fell to his knees, and grabbed his ebony hair, angered and frightened at what he'd done. More tears streamed down his cheeks, falling on the bleeding red R on his shirt.
Then, James felt another hand on his shoulder. He heard an unfamiliar voice, "It's OK. I saw the whole thing, and it wasn't your fault."