Broken
Disclaimer: I don't own Pokemon.
Nightmare
"Vaporeon! No, no, no! Pidgeo-"
A large bird crashed into the ground, breaking her neck and wing.
The faithful Vaporeon was sent to that hole in the ball-like building structure, and she tumbled down into the lake of lava below.
"Please, don't!"
The old man's pokemon attacked the last living thing of their trainer's opponent- the human opponent himself.
The human screamed as the Tauros attacked, it's horns piercing cloth, skin, and finally all the way out of his back.
Michael screamed as he sat up from his horrid slumber, shaking severely. He felt sick, as usual. Sick with himself, sick of the world, and sick of the stupid nightmare! He glanced around, and sighed in relief when he saw his pokemon surrounding him.
They hadn't died in the battle, and, unfortunately, neither had he.
Vaporeon snuggled against his side, making him look at her, and scoot away. He glanced around. Pidgeot was sitting on his headboard, fast asleep. All the pokemon that could fit in his room were asleep.
Good.
He climbed out of bed, opened the door, and headed for the kitchen. He had to get the bad feeling out of him.
The kitchen was empty; it was very late at night, after all. He felt his way over to the knife drawer and opened it. He pulled out a steak knife. He ran his thumb along the blade, letting it slice him momentarily. He sighed, and stiffened when he heard, "Don't do something stupid. Put the knife down."
He lifted the knife, and prepared to defend against the strange intruder. He spun around, baring the knife as a weapon. "Who are you, and what do you want?" he snapped, but relaxed when he saw what he did.
A man with sandy blonde hair stood their, completely weaponless. In fact, the only things he could use to defend himself were the two pokemon at his feet, neither of them hardly paying attention. The fiercer looking one dipped his head and brought himself to lie down. The gentler one turned to lick some dirt from her haunches. The man had gold eyes, with platinum sunglasses resting on his head.
"Whoa, whoa, relax. I'm not gonna hurt you. My… my name's Wes, and I'm here to help. Now please put down the knife, Michael. I know that you're hurting. And I know what you do to yourself. And if you cut yourself this time, it could be your last! Don't you see? You'll kill yourself if you keep this up!"
Okay, so I know that it's not very long, but this is just the start of this story! This is supposed to be really sad. So sorry if it's not… Anyway, I came up with this about two days ago playing this game on FB, so I continued playing it, and every time I did I thought of this story and eventually I had to publish it. I hope you like it! ;) Please remember to review!
With love…
Ja ne! :-)