Hey everyone! I've got good news and bad news. The good news is that I'm writing a new story dedicated to my favorite character on Pokémon ever, Brock; it's basically Brock's story (from his POV) before, during, and maybe after he met Ash, starting from when he was born! Anyway, the bad news is that I kind of lost interest in writing the rest of my other story (the sandcastle one), and unfortunately, I don't think I'm gonna continue. I'm really sorry, but...I'm not sure. Anyway, just some things to clear up before you read:
1. I made up the the names for the doctor and nurse, so it's not Nurse Joy.
2. I know there's a confusion with them saying that Brock's mom died, but then in the Chronicles she's still there; I'm writing as if Brock's real mom died first and then Flint got married to Lola (his second mom) later on (by the way, I made up his first mom's name, which is Marie).
3. To make sure that the age difference between Brock and Forrest was correct, I had to make some of his siblings twins.
4. In "A Family That Battles Together Stays Together", Brock mentions the youngest sibling, Toko. That's her Japanese name; in "Grating Spaces", Brock calls her "Tilly", which is her English name. I liked Toko better for the story, so I put that in instead of "Tilly".
5. I do not own Pokémon and please read and review!
The True Tale of Brock Harrison
It was 2:15 in the morning.
The cries of a newborn baby filled the quiet hospital room. The nurse picked up the infant and handed it to its mother.
"He looks very healthy," Nurse Jackie said to Marie, who was the new mother.
"He's beautiful," Marie said, as she took the baby in her arms. She looked into his almond-shaped brown eyes, which he had just opened. He had tanned skin, just like his father, and had a few wisps of brown hair on his delicate head.
Just then, a tall, rugged-looking man with spiky brown hair walked into the room. "Did you pick out a name yet?"
The young woman thought for a minute, then spoke. "Brock. It rhymes with rock, because I know that he's going to be strong, but sweet. What do you think, Flint?"
"Brock Harrison." The thirty-year-old man considered it for a moment. "Hmm…that goes well together. Okay then, his name is Brock."
"I'm so happy," Marie said. "I know in my heart that Brock is going to grow up healthy and strong."
And the small child, brown eyes shining brightly, smiled up at his new mother.
***
Five Years Later
Brock loved Pokémon, especially rock types. He loved everything about them; he was curious to find out everything he could about rock pokémon.
By this time, he was five years old. He had started growing, and his hair was dark and spiky, like his father's. His looks were one thing, but his personality was another. His personality was like his mother's, smart and strong-willed on the outside, but soft-hearted on the inside. Flint, determined to become the best rock pokémon trainer in all of Kanto and beyond, was a bit more stubborn.
The five-year-old was now sitting on the rug playing with his action figures, when suddenly, a delicious smell wafted toward him.
"Mmm…that smells yummy," he said, dropping his Geodude figurine to the floor. He headed to the kitchen, where his mother was cooking some soup.
"What are you cooking, Mommy?" the boy asked.
"I'm making soup for dinner," Marie answered sweetly.
"Oh. Can I help you?" Brock asked meekly.
"You want to help me cook?" Marie was a little puzzled. "Uh, sure you can."
After that, Marie taught Brock everything about cooking, which he soon found a pleasure for. By the time he was eight, he was helping his mom make dinner almost every night. She taught him recipes that have been passed down from her family for generations, including jelly-filled donuts, stews and soups, and her grandmother's famous rice balls.
One day, as he was preparing a salad for dinner, Brock said to his mom, "You know, mom, maybe I'll be a chef when I grow up. I really love cooking."
"You'd be a great chef, Brock. You're very talented. But there's lots of jobs to choose from in the world," Marie said, as she walked over to her son and kissed his forehead. She looked him straight in the eye. "You can be anyone you want to be."
He let those words soak in. He was only eight years old, but he was always wondering about what he was going to be when he grows up. He decided to wait and see to find out what he was truly good at before making any decisions.