Author's Note: Ah, yes. Hello, how are you? Well, this is my second fanfiction, first concerning Pokémon though,and I think I'll explain the OC you will meet in a moment.

The main character and narrator of this story is Marcy Maple. The system of the series of fanfics I plan on writing consists of Marcy living each of the Pokémon games, in her own unique fashion. Marcy isn't based on any of the female characters, so even though she's in Hoenn right now, remember: Marcy does NOT equal May. Mmkay? Marcy is a character all her own, and I hope you enjoy seeing things through her eyes. She is a bit different from many characters I've written, but she's been one of the most enjoyable. So here is the first chapter (and maybe the second) and tell me if you think this is enjoyable enough to continue, if you please! Thank you!

Moving vans...they are uncomfortable.
No, wait, scratch that. I lied. That was an understatement. Moving vans are extremely, utterly, unmistakably, horribly uncomfortable. There, that about sums it up. Oh, the front of the moving van is fine, just fine. Sure, they don't have the interior of, say, a European sports car, but they're sturdy. And air conditioned. And there are usually snacks there. And a radio. And it's all just plain hunky-dory.

But I'm not sitting in the dandy, slightly lower-class standard front part of the moving van, am I? No, I'm not. What gave it away?

Ugh. Can you imagine it? Sitting on the gritty, hard floor of the storage section on a moving van, your rear end obtaining a new bruise with every speed bump the truck hits. Oh, yeah. That's luxury, all right. Pft, luxury my foot. The stupid truck didn't even have a window. So as a result, I wouldn't have been able to tell if we were heading on the right direction, to our new town, or if we were going full speed ahead up to the North Pole.
No, wait. I lied again. I would be able to tell if we were beading to the blissfully chilly home of Santa and his elves, because the truck was smoldering hot. In fact, I'm sure that if it had gotten any hotter, I would have spontaneously combusted by now-twice.

Crouched between a wooden chest and some cardboard boxes, I pulled my purple bandana off and wiped my dripping forehead off. Then, disregarding how damp the cloth now was, I defied it back around my head.
I sighed, then attempted to change my sitting position, but failed horribly. Both legs from the knees down had fallen asleep, due to my cramped position, and in addition to that, I was wearing shoes that were two sizes too small. In all the excitement of the move, and despite the occurrence of a major growth spurt in my feet, shoe shopping was out of the question. So my toesies were, in fact, very squished and squashed indeed.

So as a result, my legs were now experiencing this weird, numb-yet-in-serious-pain feeling, as if I had half our belongings sitting in my lap.

The fact that I had nothing to do was a let down, too. I mean, if I had a video game, or a book, or even a patch of growing grass in front of me, the experience might not have been as painful and boring. Unfortunately, however, my Gameboy was packed somewhere in our mass of boxes, and I wasn't prepared to risk an avalanche of cardboard, clothing, and a refrigerator to get it. And besides, Mom's box of weights was already falling on me every fifteen minutes, and I wasn't masochistic enough to add to my pain. I'm pretty sure I have a crack in my skull somewhere by now...

Oh, and on top of that, I'm hungry, too. Starving, in fact. Tree bark actually sounded pretty good, at the moment...

So I'm sure you can imagine my tears of joy when I felt the truck slowly come to a stop.

The door rolled up, and bright light flooded the dark Hellhole.
"The door..." I moaned as I pushed myself out of that God-forsaken vehicle.

"Ah! Ha-ha!" I exclaimed triumphantly as my feet touched the ground. A second later, however, my numb, unsupported legs gave away beneath me, and I fell onto the ground on my side, my temple slamming against the rocks.

"Aaagh, shit." I swore, stars dancing before my eyes.

"Did you say something, honey?" I heard my mom ask. I looked up to see her blurry image walking towards me from the front of the van.

"Eh...slip. I slipped. So I fell. Yeah, that's it." I said lamely as I pushed myself up, my eyesight clearing dramatically.
Mom took my hand and helped steady me into a stable position. Mom's actually only a few inches taller than I am, with long, curly, dark brown hair and shiny, dark eyes. I, on the other hand, am a lighter specimen, sporting light brown hair held in a bandana, with blue eyes and a few freckles on my nose.

Mom hugged me tightly. "Oh, Marcy!" She held me at my shoulders and looked at me. "We're here, honey! Isn't it great?"

As I dusted off my amethyst-toned jacket and my dark blue jeans, I looked around the tiny town. Three buildings, really? Then why are there so many people walking around outside? Where do they live? And how the Hell are we supposed to get grocery shopping done with no stores? "...Sure, Mom."

She looked behind me, at the interior of my former prison. "My, it must have been tiring, riding with our things in the moving truck."

I was about to say bluntly, "No shit.", when I remembered who I was talking to. I have to catch myself at times, or my temper will get the better of me and I'll say something I'll regret later. "Yeah, I guess it was." I said carefully.

"Well," she sighed and looked around the tiny area. "This is Littleroot town! Do you like it, Marcy?"

"Well...it's very, ah..." I searched for a non-offensive word to replace 'boring', 'lame', and 'cramped'. "Clean." I finished at long last after an uncomfortable moment of silence.

Mom, however, didn't seem to notice. "Yes, It is clean, isn't it? And it has a quaint feel to it as well...But is seems like it'll be an easy place to live, don't you think?"

I looked around again. Easy, yes. Exciting, no. I shrugged, "Yeah, I guess it seems nice..."

"Are you sure?" She looked right into my eyes. "Really, Marcy, do you really like it?"

Oh, Lord. The Look. My mom has this look that makes you feel like you just got done beating her or something. Well, after all, she's the one I inherited my puppy dog eyes from...But that's beside the point. My mom has spent the last ten years trying to make me, her daughter, happy. We've moved around a lot over the past decade. And she feels that that has had a negative impact on me. Well...it has. I'm not going to lie. I've lost many friends over the years, moving from Johto, where I was born, to many, many other places. I've lost a lot. And my mom feels partly responsible. But really...it's not her fault. It's not. And I don't hold anything against her.

So I smiled as brightly as I could. "Yes, Mom. I love it."

My mom then wrapped her arms around me in a tight hug. "This is the last move, Marcy. This is it. No more feeling out of place. No more friends to lose. No more. You're here to stay."

I hugged her back. "Yeah. I know."

I, however, was lying. I didn't know I was lying, of course, and my mother didn't know she was lying, either. Because this wouldn't be my last move. In fact, that day would begin the biggest move of my life.

xXx

She then took my hand and pulled me toward the house.

"Oh, Marcy, you're going to love it here! Isn't the house gorgeous?" She asked excitedly.

I looked over my new home. I guess it was a nice looking house, I'll admit it, but maybe I just don't understand the meaning of the word "gorgeous". Or maybe at that moment, the only thing that would come across as "gorgeous" would be a King-Sized Snickers bar...oh, yes...come to mamma...Aaw, that was only a hallucination on the ground...jeez, is my skull really that damaged..?

"Aaaand this is our new home!" Mom exclaimed as she fling open the door and we entered the house.

I looked around the living room. Everything seemed pretty generic, I supposed...a couch, curtains, a television,...AND TWO HULKING MONSTERS CARRYING OUR BOXES!

I was about to shout out in surprise when one of the "monsters" turned and was able to give me a good look at him, and at that moment I realized that our movers were using their Pokémon to help out. Oh, wow. Good thing I caught myself...I wouldn't have wanted to look stupid...which I admit happens a lot, but hey, it's always good to avoid those...unfortunate situations.

Mom came up from behind me and placed a hand on my shoulder as I stared at the two beasts as they moved boxes around. Squeezing, she said excitedly to me, "Oh, and isn't this great? Pokémon movers! It's so convenient, isn't it?"

I smiled half-heartedly as I watched the two Pokémon work. Yes, it was convenient. For us and the movers. Because once they were done helping us with our house, the movers and their Pokémon got to return home together, as partners, as companions...

As friends.

Friends. That's what I truly needed and wanted. Would Littleroot provide that? Who knows. But I was sure of one thing...

A Pokémon would.

And though I didn't have a Pokémon at the moment, I was dead set on getting one as soon as possible.