I've always found myself lucky to have a huge family. I mean, don't get me wrong, they can be terrible sometimes. There's moments where everyone's shouting and whining that I just want to lock myself in the bathroom and lay in the bathtub in the fetal position until they all move out. Living in a house of eleven people has taught me the value of alone time and peace and quiet, and how to break up violent fights between twelve year olds as quickly as possible. But despite all the headaches they cause I've learned just how much you miss your family once you can't be around them anymore.

I always wake up early. No matter what day or occasion I'm always up by six; which was exactly what my clock read as I opened my eyes one Sunday morning. Dim sunlight shone through my blinds and birds chirped from outside the window of our old farmhouse. I slid myself out of my bed and changed out of my pajamas into a plain t-shirt and shorts. I groaned as I approached the staircase and thought about just throwing myself down them so I didn't have to put in the effort of doing it properly. Instead I tiptoed down the steps as to not wake up anyone. Skipping the last two incredibly squeaky steps and sneaking through the living room (where my eleven year old brother Kane was passed out, Gameboy in hand) and out the screened in kitchen and onto the porch.

Pink clouds filled the sky and the air smelt like freshly cut grass and sunshine, if that made any sense. I plopped my butt down on the porch, minding for splinters, and let my feet brush the dewy grass. I could already tell that by noon it would be hotter than Satan's living room. My eyes scanned my families land, with its corn fields and big red barns and beautiful scenery. If I had to pick another thing that I'm thankful for, this would be in a close second. Our property was completely enclosed by woods. A mile through the woods to the south would lead you to Seagrass cove, where we buy our groceries. About five miles to the north will get you to Dandelion City. I went there once as kid and all I remember is the smell of gasoline and sweaty people. City life definitely wasn't for me. I'm perfectly content living out in the middle of nowhere for forever, thanks.

I was completely lost in my thoughts when my Aunt poked her brown bobbed head out the screen door, looking fresh faced and invigorated despite the early time. "Ruthie, be a dear and help with breakfast."

"Course," I gave her a bright smile and stood up. "What're we having today?"

"Eggs and bacon and biscuits," She smiled at me and tossed me an oven mitt. "The first batch of biscuits are ready to be taken out, do that while I work on the bacon."

Every Sunday was our big breakfast day. We'd stuff ourselves until we burst, do our chores, then laze around the house until dinner where we'd stuff ourselves again. Every meal here was fantastic, but Sunday meals were extremely fantastic.

About ten minutes later my mom thumped down the stairs, her hair still damp and a tired smile on her face. The similarities between her and her sister were uncanny; same hair, same face, same cheery laugh. She hugged me around the shoulders and told me that Jackie would be downstairs right after her shower. I nodded and continued cooking. Looking at Jackie was like looking in a mirror.

Most people wonder why my family and my aunt and uncle's family live in the same house together, and sometimes when everyone's fighting I do too. But the house is ginormous and we've always been a close family, so it works. Taking care of the farm is a lot easier when it's eleven people working it, too.

Jackie pounded down the stairs like a drunken Phanpy, her pixie cut hair sticking up in all directions and looking like she was going to jump down someone's throat at any second. She threw herself into a chair and laid her head down on the table. I grabbed a plate and filled it for her, dumping pepper all over her eggs like she likes it. I plopped down in the chair next to her and poked her cheek. "Good morning, Jackie dear," I said in my most cheery tone. "Rise and shine sunshine!"

She raised her head slowly, like a vampire in a coffin. The look on her face could strike fear into the hearts of an army, but I was so used to it that I laughed. I placed the plate in front of her and went back to the counter to fix everyone else's plate as my family straggled into the kitchen, groggy but smiling. Jackie and I were the oldest, her being sixteen and me being fifteen. The five other kids were ranging from thirteen to four.

Soon enough the table was filled, the adults talking business and eating, and the kids messing around. Jackie was still half asleep, her head on the table sideways and shoveling eggs into her mouth with one hand. I watched her in disgust.

"That's repulsive."

She glowered at me. "I don't care."

I sighed and rolled my eyes. "Do you want some coffee, sweetpea?"

She perked up a bit and nodded, and I chuckled, walking back through the saloon doors into the big bright yellow kitchen and started up the coffee maker. She came walking in afterwards, dumping her leftovers and rinsing off her plate while the coffee brewed. "Dad said we're making a run to Seagrass later for some groceries," she announced, leaning up against the counter.

"Who's we?"

"Me and you this time."

"Alrighty, we takin' the cart?"

"Nah. Just a few bags; nothing big."

I nodded and we stood in comfortable silence together for a moment until the coffee timer went off. Jackie bounced over and poured herself a mug. I watched her guzzle it down without pausing to wait for it to cool off. For as smart as Jackie is, she eats like a barbarian.

My dad swung open the doors and leaned up against the counter across from us. He looked sullen. "You two need to come out to the barn with me, I gotta show you somethin'. Don't mention anything to the kids though, I don't wanna upset 'em."

Jackie and I looked at each other with raised eyebrows then chased after my dad, who was already heading outside. We had to sprint across the yard to catch up with my dad's long strides.

He paused at the door of the barn where our Miltank were located for us to catch up. He still looked disturbed, like he wanted to puke. "Now girls, I gotta warn you, Martha's not doing so good. That's why I told you not to tell the kids. I figured you two could handle it though."

My stomach dropped a bit. Martha was our sweet old mama Miltank; she never kicked or bit or acted unruly at all. She was perfectly healthy yesterday…

"Wait, what's wrong with her?" Jackie asked gently, her voice soft. Jackie wanted to be a doctor, maybe she knew what kind of treatment she needed.

Dad just motioned his hand for us to follow him in, and lead us down the rows pins where we keep the pregnant or occasional sick Pokemon. In the very back was Martha, laying on the dirt floor. As we approached she let out a wheeze.

"She looks…" I trailed off, staring at her wheezing frame. She had strange green bruising starting from her udder and going up her sides.

"Pitiful," Jackie finished. "I couldn't even tell you what's wrong. I've never seen this before."

"Me either, hun." My dad turned away from Martha and looked at us. "That's what I wanted you to head to Seagrass for. We don't need groceries; I want you to visit the Professor. Take these pictures of Martha's bruises, and show them to him. He may know how to save her."

Jackie and I looked at each other for another moment and nodded. "Of course. Anything to save her."

Authors note:

This is my first fanfiction on this site so I hoped you enjoyed it! Please review so I can know what I'm doing right and what I'm doing wrong.

It's placed in a different region from my own imagination, but we wont be seeing any new pokemon. I'm not that creative :)

Hopefully the next chapter will be up in a few days. Thanks for reading!