WARNINGS:
Dark-themes, swearing, possible lesbian relationships, mentions of self-harm, and overall depression is dealt with in this, along with violence. I don't plan on anything being absurdly graphic, but this is here just in case.
C A N C E R O U S
- In the end, we're all just cancerous; destroying ourselves with each breath we live to breathe.
It's day, though that time of day that no one really counts to be day; it's too early for that. It's maybe two AM. The sun won't be up for hours. There's a red light blinking at me in the dark, but I feel too fatigued to get it. I unplugged the alarm clock hours ago, only to chicken it out and plug it back in. I need to know.
At this point, time is the most important thing in the world to me. My bag is packed, and I'm ready to leave. Just one more hour...if I just set the time on that damn alarm, I could figure out when to go, but I'm too scared. Cinder can tell. He's been uneasy all night.
Cinder, my darling cyndaquil, the only thing I care for in this house, he's been resting on my stomach. I normally don't let him. I'm always scared I'll roll over onto him in the night and kill him...and I'm selfish. I don't want to wake up to that. I need him too much.
They wanted to throw a party. It was going to be a big thing. My 16th birthday. I could finally be a Pokemon trainer. I could finally leave this god forbidden house, but I won't be here that long. They can celebrate without me. I doubt they'd notice my absence, and if they do, it won't matter, I'll be miles away before they notice. Besides, by that point, I'll be a legal trainer. I can go wherever the hell I want at that point.
It's time to go.
I think packing had been the hardest part. I did it days ago, but still, the skill it required amazed me. How to fit everything you need into a small little bag without going over the twenty pound weight limit I'd set for myself. Who wants to carry around a bag that's thirty pounds or more for many miles every day? That's how you snap your back. No one wants that. I heard that some trainers just use their pokemon to carry thier stuff, but what could Cinder hold, at roughly a foot in height? He'd try if I told him- he'd do anything for me- but I care about him too much for that. It's quite easy to see he'd die for me.
Taking only what was useful had been the hardest part. It's winter. I need extra clothes, layers for if some get wet and what not, but clothes are heavy. And I need food. And whatever else I want. I went over my weight limit, just so you know. With a few bags of trailmix, about $150, three outfits that included sweaters and jeans, two hoodies, a winter jacket, and a sleeping bag. I needed all of it, but it was heavy. Cinder can see the fatigue on my face. He doesn't want to sit on my shoulder for once; snuggling up against my face. He worries for me.
The part even harder than that had been the realization that I might need one of those razors stashed behind my bed, against the wall. I might need one for cutting vines, and overall defense, but could I trust myself with such a thing? The word "HUSH" carved into my thigh told me no. I said yes. I was weak.
It was roughly five AM when I finally left, and gentle snowflakes were falling from the heavens. It was cold outside, and I pulled into my jacket. "Cinder, come here."
He considered arguing, I could see it by the look on his face, but eventually, he scuttled into my hand, and I set him on my shoulder. Travel would be far quicker this way, without the snow falling beneath him, and him getting trapped every three minutes in the dents created, besides, he warmed my cheek up. Though the flames on his back weren't up, you could just feel the heat radiating from the holes.
I began to move forward, and I made a point of not looking back. There was nothing for me there. If home is where the heart is, then that was merely the place I lived. My parents loved me, but I couldn't love them. I didn't hate them, but not hating isn't love. I know that much. They fed me and clothed me, gave me free shelter and tried to care for me, but I'm selfish, and it was never quite enough. How could it be? They still don't know my favorite color. I'd made a point of saying it to them quite often. They never cared enough to listen.
I ran out of care after a while too.
About an hour into my quest, I could hear a gentle snore on my shoulder, and it was pulling me back into a calm, drowsy state. I wasn't paying attention. My shoulders hurt from my bag, and my legs hurt from walking, and my body was sore from the cold. I hadn't lost feeling in my fingers yet, but they had that abnormal and unnatural burning feeling that skin gets when it's too cold. My eyelids felt heavy. The sun was beginning to rise.
I should have slept last night.
I wanted to get to a Pokemon Center by five PM, which would require travelling straight through dense woodland without a rest. The next town, Initium, was small, no gym, but it had a shop and a Pokemon Center, and that was fine with me. I could check in there for free with my trainer card, and sleep until I no longer felt tired, then stop at the shop, before heading to Proxima, the first town with a gym on my way. I hadn't counted on the amount of physical effort such a journey would take. it was hard, and the road was rugged and there was no beaten path. I was lost in the woods, all alone.
At this point, I think I was the walking dead; I was just trudging along as though there was no tomorrow. At this point, there wasn't any thought or reason to where I went; just forward. The sun had settled on my shoulders in a delicate pink color, and dyed the snow sparkling shades of warm colors. I could have been on the clouds in those funny little animations, if I really wanted to pretend, but I didn't. I just wanted to sleep. Over twenty four hours without a minute of rest with harsh hiking was beginning to get to me. The warmth coming from the weight on my shoulder felt nice.
Where was I going again?
It was maybe about nine o' clock at this point, in the morning of course, though I could be lying. I didn't feel like checking my watch. That was too much more effort than needed at this point. It was too much work. All I knew was that the snow shined and glimmered and burned my eyes, and the sky was a shade of pure white. The air tasted like smoke, like winter air tends too, and I just wanted a fire, but I had to keep going.
It was beginning to become harder and harder to keep my eyes open, and sometimes I forgot why I was fighting so hard. I had a bed back home, why didn't I just go back there? It was warm, and comfy an- no! I had to keep going, keep going, keep going.
Step, step, step, the crunching sound was a hypnotic lullaby at this point. My eyelids felt weighted. Cinder was still snoring in my ear.
The world went black as I stumbled forward. I think I was really tired; I think I distintly heard a voice.
Author's Notes: So guys, what do you think for the first chapter of my first story? I'm proud of it, but it doesn't show much of the main character, plot, or the other characters at this point, but you'll see more of it soon, promise. 3 At this point, I was just trying to figure out how to get it started. I had had a few ideas, but I decided to go with this one.
Not really sure where this is going at this point; there's multiple paths I could take to get where I want to go, but I still need to choose one of them.
Please review, I'd really like some creative critism and overall encouragement to keep going. I want to maybe update only once or twice a week on a schedule, school keeps me too busy for daily updates, and I want to know what days you guys as readers think is best...so please review and tell me. 333
By the way: I need to re-read this tomorrow and fix it up. Please alert me of any typos and whatnot so I can fix them. I've been up for almost 18 hours straight at this point, and I'm exhausted. Sorry for any terrible grammar or what not. ):