Fiery Ambition

Chapter 1: Burning My Dreams

Fire lit the sky like a brief, yet beautiful display of orange, yellow, and red. People ooed and aahed as I danced around and blew flames with my fellow actor, Fenrir the Growlithe. As my performance was coming to a close, both Fenrir and I stood apart from each other and shoot forth plumes of flames and when they collided they exploded into an array of colors. I could hear the applause crescendo as we finished our fire tricks. I bowed with Fenrir as people cheered us on. According to my parents this was to be my dream job, but I couldn't take it anymore. The circus just was not the place for me.

After the crowd dissipated to other stations, maybe to get their future told by my 'psychic' sister (she really had an Abra using Future Sight then relaying the information to her, although sometimes she did get a premonition) or go watch my acrobatic mom, the Flipping Faith, who did a variation of flips accompanied by her flying Pokemon. I made my way to find my dad, also known as the Mighty Mitchell. As you might have guessed he's one of those super buff carnies that pride themselves on being able to lift a car or some ridiculous feat of strength like that. Unfortunately, I didn't completely make it to him.

"Well, well," came a taunting yet familiar from behind me.

Without turning I answered my 'mysterious' guest. "What do you want Tony? If you want your future read, the Clairvoyant Clarissa is over there." I motioned to my left pointing out a purple and yellow tent that housed my sister and her Abra.

"I didn't come for that. I came to visit a friend." I felt his meaty hand land on my shoulder. I tried to see what he really wanted which was probably my first mistake of the night.

Powdered sugar filled my nose as a funnel cake collided with my face. I wan't surprised really. Shoving a funnel cake in my face was something a friend like Tony would do.

I licked the sugar off my lips as Fenrir started to growl. "My aunt really does make the best funnel cakes, doesn't she?" I sarcastically commented. "You know I have a taste for her key lime pie. You don't happen -"

I was cut off as my unfinished wish came true whipped cream and pie filled my vision, mouth, and my recently filled nostrils. This time I was completely caught off guard. I started to cough up not-so whipped cream and soggy chunks of pie crust. I suppose it was my fault for actually letting my guard down around Tony. Because wherever there was Tony there was...

"Marcus! Oh my gosh, that was incredible," He said to his dessert throwing companion. "I told you he wouldn't see it coming! You completely blindsided him," Tony burst into a fit of laughter.

"That's just how I do," came a cocky, squeaky voice to my right. "This type of stuff never gets old."

I wiped the whipped cream off of my eyes to look at the two pranksters. Tony and Marcus were exact opposites physically, but mentally they were twins. Tony was tanned, tall, and extremely overweight. He had enough golden brown meat on his bones to give a Snorlax some competition and don't even get me started on his smell. His pores leaked some foul odor that was a mixture of sour milk and very old cheese, and for a thirteen year old, he was extremely hairy except for his shaved clean scalp.

Then there was Marcus who hates everyone taller than (minus Tony), and due to his short stature that pretty much includes everyone except maybe a few toddlers. To put it bluntly, he looks like a pale starving pygmy with curly red hair. Another stark comparison to Tony, was that Marcus kept himself fairly clean. He smelled like mint (which I'm pretty sure he's obsessed with) and his teeth were white as a bride's dress.

"Oh you got me," I replied in monotone. "Which prize do you wish to have?" I put both of my hands out as if they contained a reward. "We have the all expense paid ticket to leave or," I said as my straight lips dropped into a scowl, "the limited edition third-degree burned face, extra crispy of course..."

I motioned to Fenrir as his growls got even deeper and the area around us seemed to be warming up.

"Are you kids having a good time?" Questioned a fourth voice. A voice everyone in Celadon City could recognize. A voice that has scolded me many times. The voice of Mighty Mitchell. I turned to witness my dad in all of his beefed up glory.

"Oh yes Mr. Sommers. We just came to say hey to our friend," Tony said innocently. Well as innocent as a thirteen year old Sasquatch could sound. And of course my dad would fall for it like the gullible oaf he is. He would think that throwing fatty desserts into people's face was hip now. He might even try pegging me with a Neapolitan filled ice cream cone just to show he was cool and in with the times...which he definitely was not.

"Is throwing pies and funnel cakes at someone's face how we greet each other now? Glad to know," I growled at the two pests matching a sound similar to my Growlithe. I wonder how much trouble I would get in if I dipped both of their faces in molten hot fudge.

"You always were a joker," my dad replied as if I just told him something funny, which I most definitely did not. I groaned mentally as I tried to wipe the rest of the sugary sweet residue from my face.

"Yes Dad, because I put Aunt Rosa's desserts own my on face to make a fashion statement. You know what, whatever, but can we talk," I glared towards the annoying pains known as Tony and Marcus and I spit the rest of my sentence as if it was acid, "alone please."


"But why do want to leave the circus? Our family has been doing this for generations," my dad pleaded.

"Dad...I just can't anymore. I'm only twelve and I already feel confined. I really don't think that I could manage to do this for the rest of my life. I don't want to stay couped up in Celadon," I said as my eyes got starry. "I have bigger plans. I want to explore and discover new places. Learn new things and meet new people...you know, the kind that don't throw pies in your face. I think its time I spread my wings Dad."

My dad looked like I just told him I didn't want to be his son anymore, and in his mind that is probably how he perceived it.

"You know son, I always told you and your sister that you all could do whatever you wanted and that I would support you. I just didn't know it would be this hard." My dad bit his bottom lip as if he was about to cry. It was weird watching a man able to go toe-to-toe with most fighting-types struggling to fight back tears.

"Its not like I'm saying that I'm leaving and never coming back...but I've put a lot of time and effort into thinking about what I want to do. I want to be a Gym Leader." As I said that I could tell I just dropped a verbal bomb.

My dad's face looked as if he just got hit by a train. Now the tears were free falling from his eyes and the snot was starting to drip from his nose. "A gym leader...but-"

Unfortunately for him and his feeling I wasn't quite finished. "And since I already have Fenrir and fire is pretty much my natural element, I was thinking that I could become a fire-type gym leader. And since there is already a prominent fire-type gym on Cinnabar Island, I figured I should try and become a gym leader in," I let my words sink in and linger for dramatic effect, after all it wasn't everyday I had my dad sitting on the edge of his seat (I had to take advantage of the situation), "Johto."

And kaboom, my verbal bomb had just blew up my dad's world. "Johto?!" The oh-so Mighty Mitchell let out a yelp pretty similar to when someone accidentally stepped on one of Fenrir's paws. "But that's so far away. What if we need you back here? I'm sorry, but I just can't approve of sending you into another region gallivanting though Arceus knows where with something possibly eating you for dinner."

"Nothing's eating me for dinner," I deadpanned despite the trainer casualties being a not-so-uncommon thing. "Besides its just on the opposite side of Mt. Silver. I'll practically be in the backyard if you think about it."

"I said no and that's that." My dad exited in a huff thinking a simple word like no would deter me.

How wrong he was. I, Tyson Sommers, would be a gym leader, even if it killed me...lets just hope it doesn't go that far.


Growlithe: Growww!

Tyson: Shhh Fenrir! You can't let them know we're up on the computer this late. They'll think I'm up to something...suspicious

No means no to some, but when it pertains to people telling ME what to do...its irrelevant. Catch me in my next chapter, The Disobedient Child!