Pokemon is not mine.
My father was sick.
Yet, you simply use your slaves to faint him.
He was only just trying to protect me.
Yet, you did that.
You are cold-blooded.
True, you never killed him but only injured him.
But he was sick, thus, fainting him means the same as killing him.
You never realized that.
You never knew that.
Therefore, you never felt remorse for killing my father.
You only felt triumph at capturing me.
But at doing that, you tore me away from being with my father at his last moment.
I was unable to bury his body.
I wanted to hate you.
But my sense of fairness forbids me to do so.
Because you never realized you killed him.
Thus, you cannot feel remorse.
I hate you.
Yet, I don't.
The only time you let me out of the ball.
Was for me to fight for you.
I had become your slaves, just like the others.
To simply fight for you, that is my job.
Such a simple job, and we do not need to kill.
But I fear this job, for I fear that others will become just like me.
And have to mourn all by themselves for their families' death, just like me.
For I do not have any friends to talk with, nobody to comfort me.
Because of you.
You never let your slaves talk with one another.
You never gave us warmth or kindness.
Yet, you never torture or mistreat us.
I wish you will.
For if you did, the death of my father and the pain that I suffered will serve as my adrenaline and power to kill you.
But you never did.
I hate you.
Yet I don't.
For all I needed was given to me.
But all that I wanted was forbidden from me.
I hate you.
Yet, I don't.
End