My Plushie

by Ricku

When I was nine, me and my family once went into an amusement park that I loved as a kid. I had told my mom I wanted a Pikachu plushie from one of the shops there, since they didn't have that kind anywhere else. I was on a ride with my older brother when I saw my mom, waving my new friend for me to see. I was so happy that I wished for the ride to end so I could go meet him, my Pikachu plushie.

When I got him in my arms, I felt tremendous joy. He was very soft and bright. My mom apologized to me, because she had only kept checking that the eyes were right, but she had not paid attention to the cheeks. One was lower than the other, but I had paid no attention to it. I think Pikachu was beautiful as he was.

I would keep him close to me every night and he would be my protection, since I feared the dark. I felt safe when Pikachu was close to me. He was my true friend.

It was a shame that I couldn't bring him to my school, because I needed that safety there. Kids would bully me and tease me, because I was apparently too childish. I watched Pokémon and Digimon ever since they started and others didn't like that much. They would call me names and scare me constantly.

I got home and I went to my Pikachu, who wasn't that bright and soft as he was when I got him. So many nights in my arms had done that to him. But he was still my best friend, no matter how he looked.

I hugged him tightly, burying my face into his head. I felt so sad, but I couldn't bring myself to cry. Something in my eyes stopped me from shedding tears.

"I hate those people. They always bully me. They ruin my favourite classes for me." I spoke to my Pikachu. I pulled away from him, watching his face in sadness.

"You have to teach them a lesson." Pikachu shook in my arms, smiling.

"But how? What am I supposed to do?" I asked, dropping my gaze to my bedsheets under me. "I'm so weak."

"You're not weak. You have a strong pair of legs, a strong pair of arms. Your teeth are liko iron and your eyes... They're innocent and sweet, but they can transform into those of a demon, if you want to. They have scared you, but now it's your turn." Pikachu explained me and I hugged him. I hugged him so tightly, nodding into his messy fur.

"I am strong..." I whispered, glaring into a wall of my room. My built up anger was coming up.

I walked the hallways of my school, receiving pointing and laughing, but I didn't care. Those people were just confused. I headed to the gym, where our next class was going to be, but there was no-one yet. I was early. I saw one of my bullies there, doing streches and such. He noticed me and began to laugh.

"So, what's this, you brought a pokémon with you. You still watch cartoons, you weirdo. Grow up." He laughed and I stared at him with my deadly eyes. He watched me, slightly confused. "What?" He asked and I walked closer to him, holding tightly to Pikachu's hand. I grabbed the collar of his short with my free hand and threw him on the ground. I began to kick him everwhere I could; In the legs, in the groin, in the stomach, in the arms, in the head... He screamed, pleading me to stop, but my anger was at max. I couldn't stop until he stopped moving. There was blood coming out of his mouth, but surprisingly, nowhere else. I walked away from the gym, no-one knowing who had done such a cruel thing.

I saw my friends go into the gym and my classmates, none of them paying attention to me. I heard screaming from the gym. They had found that jerk's body.

I headed to a classroom, where we had art lessons. One of my bullies was there. One of the worst ones. He always ruined my favourite class for me and my best friend. I loved drawing so much, but he was there, always yelling and bitching, not wanting to do anything. He used to be in my class, but he was removed to the special class, where the most problematic kids were held.

And now, he was ahead of me, sitting on a chair, breaking the watercolour moulds. He looked up to me, getting his bully mode on. "What the fuck are you doing here, you fucker? You and your hanging boobs and stone aged clothes? I bet you get raped by your father." He spoke with such hatred and annoyance. I had once said that he was probably badly raised child and he had pulled my hair, in the middle of a class. Neither of us liked each other.

"No, but I bet you do." I glared at him, holding onto my Pikachu's hand. He raised up, completely pissed off. He was fat and not too quick with his moves. When he was close enough, I punched him on the face as hard as I could.

"OW! YOU FUCKING BITCH!" He screamed and I kicked him in the groin, making him fall down. I kicked his stomach as hard as I could and I kneeled down next to him, punching him hard on his face. His nose was no longer a nose, but a flat, bloody pancake. He was cursing out of pain and he couldn't move.

The desks in the class were heavy. The legs of the table were metal and they were rather slim. I raised up the table and moved it, aiming the leg of the table to the bully's throat.

"Please..." He whimpered. "Stop..."

"Did you stop when I pleaded?" I simply asked, which got no answer from the bully. I glared at him with angry eyes. "That's what I thought." And I let go of the table.

I left the classroom, giving a last look to the bloody corpse. The leg didn't go completely through, but enough to kill the bully. I still held on to Pikachu, who I then hugged tightly.

"It feels good. Doesn't it?" Pikachu asked me, making me smile softly.

No blood had touched me, which was a little odd. Still, I had more people to take care of.

One bully lived near me. He was constantly lying about things and he was a huge perv. He was always talking badly about people, who weren't there. He talked badly about my brother and my friends, who he claimed to be friends with as well. I wanted to take care of him outside of school, near our houses.

There was a hill where we loved to go down the hill with a sledge and build snowhuts and such. The bully that lived near us would destroy them with his friend (the first one) and they bullied me together. I did try to teach him a lesson before, but I was unable to capture him. Which is why I had to be more sneaky and get him off of his ground. He was a football player, but I was good with snow.

We were hanging out together and he was being an asshole towards one of my best friends who also lived next to me, but much closer than this bully. He was being mean to me as well, since I had brought Pikachu with me as well. I never brought him out into snow and cold, but this time, I had to. We were at the hill, watching the cars go by. At the top of the hill was a road for cars and parents told us we should play there, but we did anyway. The bully was talking smack and lying about everything.

Once his attention was elsewhere and no cars were passing by, I had my change. I pushed him down and he rolled down the hill, landing on his back at the bottom. The snow wasn't that soft anymore, since me and my friends had hardened it with sledges and such. It must've hurt.

I made my way down by sliding, landing on the bully's stomach and making him lose his breath. He was cursing under his breath, yelling at me. He couldn't move and I began to cover his body with snow, so that even if he gained back his strength, he couldn't escape. I put Pikachu down on the ground and began to work.

He yelled at me to let him go, calling me names, but I didn't listen. I covered every part of his body, stomping the snow and making it as hard as possible and heavy as well. He was screaming and yelling and I eventually covered his mouth with snow. Everything else was now covered, except for his nose and eyes.

"You're just as cold as the snow that covers you." I said, glaring at him in anger. "Your lies are as sharp as the feel of cold that you now feel." I cough, the cold air and the snow affecting me a little. "I hate you. I always have. Sleep well." I picked Pikachu up and walked away as it began to snow. It got heavier and heavier, preventing from people seeing further than their own noses. Preventing them from seeing the bully freezing.

Now as I am writing this, I'm 21 years old and I still have my Pikachu. He has been couraging me to fight my fears and let out my bottled anger on those who treat me badly or plain annoy the life out of me. All those people... If only they had known better... If only they would have kept their mouths shut... Perhaps they would still be alive today.

I still have people to take care of, people who have hurt not only me, but my loved ones. The older I get, the more awful these people become. It works both ways, though. The more older I become, the angrier and more devious I become.

I hug my Pikachu and we both smile. "What should we play next?" Pikachu asked.