Kicked Out

He heard her coming. The sound was unmistakable; the thunderous pounding climbing up the staircase, each step getting louder and louder as she drew near. He tried to keep his eyes shut and feign unconsciousness, but it was no use. Once she reached his bedroom door, she kicked it open with all her might. Standing in the doorframe was a vicious creature, her eyes burning with a fire so intense he could feel the burn of her glare. His weary, half lidded gray eyes stared back at her, void of any emotion. In a dangerously low tone, she growled, "Get out of bed."

He stared, and then closed his eyes and pulled the blanket over his head. With four mighty steps, she was across the room and towering above him. She ripped the sheets off of him with a powerful yank and let them drop to the floor. The boy glared up at her monstrous face. She then reached down and grabbed his ankles. Realizing the impending doom that awaited him, he started to struggle in her grip and tried desperately to kick her away. Her hold held strong, and she dragged the boy out of bed. His body hit the hardwood floor with a heavy thud. He rolled over onto his back and glared daggers at the woman above him.

"Good, you're up," she said in a sickly sweet voice and smiled. "Get dressed and meet me downstairs in ten minutes." She turned on her heel and exited his room.

He watched her retreating form until it was out of sight before he pulled himself to his feet. He let out a sigh and grabbed a random pair of jeans, pulling them over his boxers and zipping them up. He found a white T-shirt and threw that on as well. As he was tying his shoes, a thought struck him. Pushing himself off the bed, he walked over to the window and placed a hand on the glass. Right, he thought, walking back to his closet. Jacket. He grabbed a black jacket with a white outline and trudged down the stairs.


"Get the hell outta my house!"

"But I wanna live with you! I wasn't even gonna live in a dorm when I go to college!"

His mother dragged him back down the stairs. He tried perilously to grip on to the railing, but she tugged harder and his hands lost their hold on the wood. She pushed him towards the door. He kept his feet firmly on the floor, but she still managed to push him out the front door. He turned around to offer one last plea, but she simply stated, "And don't come back until you got me some money." She slammed the door in his face.

He attempted to burn the house down with his mind, but soon gave up when his head began to throb. Thrusting his hands deep in his pockets, he walked away. The direction he was headed was a place he rightly avoided for all fourteen years of his life. He couldn't understand why every kid in his small hometown was so excited to turn ten; to him it only meant leaving his only home to go on a ridiculous quest with no food or shelter. But to everyone else, it was an opportunity for adventure, a journey like no other. He scoffed at the idea and kicked a large rock with the toe of his shoe.

"Adventure my ass," he muttered under his breath. A feeling of dread washed over him as he stopped and stood in front of a large white building. He kept his eyes to the ground as he hesitantly took a step inside.

A young woman with straight blond hair sat behind the front desk, her dark brown eyes intently focused on the screen of her computer, her long fingers furiously typing away. She didn't look up when he stood in front of the desk. He awkwardly cleared his throat to get her attention. Her muddy eyes glanced up momentarily, then returned to the computer.

"Name," she said in an obnoxious nasally voice.

"Coby Dallas," he mumbled, his eyes fixated on his worn shoes.

The rhythmic typing echoed in his ears as she typed in his name. The sound paused and she asked for his age.

"Fourteen."

She skillfully typed it in and clicked a few things with the mouse. Her eyes scanned through whatever it was that was on the screen. "Alright, Coby, just have a seat and the professor will call you in shortly."

Coby nodded once and sat in an empty seat. Silently, he let his eyes roam around the room. There were a few other kids, two boys and a girl, all of them sitting with their mothers with wide grins plastered on their innocent faces. Of course they were all younger than him; he was probably the only kid there who wasn't ten. He was also the only one there who wasn't excited. The other kids were nearly bouncing in their chairs, happily talking about the adventure they were about to begin and all the friends they would make. The girl looked up admiringly at her mother and said cheerfully, "I'm gonna catch all the grass types, Mommy!" She giggled to herself and swung her legs back and forth, humming an unidentifiable tune.

He leaned back in his seat and stared up at the ceiling. A door leading to the back of the building opened and a figure stepped out. A deep man's voice called out, "Coby Dallas?" Coby closed his eyes and waited. The man called his name again. When he was about to repeat the name for a third time, Coby opened his eyes and stood up. The man's eyes landed on him and he smiled. "This way, Mr. Dallas."

Coby followed the middle-aged man silently down a long corridor. He eyed him from behind. He was wearing khaki dress pants and a long white lab coat. He had one hand placed casually in one of its pockets, the other swinging at his side. He was a tall man and his hair was a light gray. A pair of glasses hung around his neck on a golden chain. He stopped in front of a door and opened it, stepping inside a moment later. Coby took a breath before entering the room himself.

The room was small and plain. There was only a desk with a computer and a roller chair on one wall and on the opposite wall sat a metal table. On the table's surface sat three small balls, the top halves red and the bottoms white. The fluorescent lights reflected on the shiny surface of each individual ball, and as he stepped closer Coby could see his own reflection on the smooth rounded surface. The old man sat in the roller chair and flipped through the pages on the clipboard.

"So Coby," he started, placing his glasses on the bridge of his nose, "how old are you?"

Coby nervously wiped his palms on his jeans. "I'm fourteen," he answered quietly. His eyes landed on the nametag on the man's lab coat. Oak, it read.

He peeked up at Coby over the rim of his glasses, then he wrote something down on the paper. "Fourteen, huh?" he mumbled, then pulled off his glasses. He smiled. "I'm sorry, I haven't properly introduced myself. I'm Professor Oak. Some call me the Pokémon Professor," he gave him a small grin, "but you could probably figure that out on your own. You know," the professor pushed himself out of the chair. "Most kids come here to get their first Pokémon when they turn ten, but you somehow escaped this place for four years. I do worry about children that young going out on their own, but with a boy your age it doesn't seem so dangerous. So, have any idea which type you are interested in?"

Coby shrugged his shoulders and glanced at the three balls. "I don't really care what I get. Can I just randomly choose one?" he asked, inclining his head towards the table.

The professor nodded. "Of course," he said.

The pounding of his heart echoed in his ears as he stepped up to the table. His palms began to sweat again and he breathed through his mouth. Each ball sat proudly on the table, holding inside a certain creature that waited to be let out into the world. What lay inside of each ball was a mystery. Coby absently tried to list the starters in his head, but their names eluded his memory. He could feel the professor's eyes on him, waiting patiently for him to choose his comrade for the journey he was about to embark on. He heaved a large sigh and reached out, curling his hand around the ball on the far right. It was slightly heavy in his hand and warm to the touch. After examining it for a couple of seconds, he turned around and faced the professor.

"Ah, so you chose Charmander, the fire type," Oak noted, a small smile on his face. It soon fell, however, and he gave Coby a stern stare. "I must warn you though, Coby. Charmander can be quite unstable at times. There have been many cases where clients have complained that their Charmander was out of control. They tend to be stubborn and independent, and training them takes time, effort, and patience. Do you think you are capable of raising that Charmander you hold in your hands?"

Coby's eyes fell on the sphere in his hand. How hard could it be? Besides, fire types kicked ass, right? He looked back up at the professor and shrugged. "Sure, whatever," he said nonchalantly. The professor nodded and had him sign a couple of papers before he left. Just as Coby was about to exit the room, Oak called out to him.

"Take these with you. They'll come in handy." The Pokémon Professor dropped five small balls similar to the larger one he had chosen in his opened palm.

Outside the lab, Coby stared perplexed at the red and white ball. He silently cursed himself for not asking how to get the damn thing out of the ball. He tried shaking it, dropping it, commanding the creature inside to come out, and even going low enough to try the old 'open sesame' trick. Nothing worked, and he was far past frustrated. Only five minutes passed when he gave up and leaned against the side of the building, sliding down until he sat on the ground.

"Fuckin' ball," he grumbled, rolling the ball around in his hand. His gray eyes landed on the small button in the middle of the ball. He furrowed his brow and rested his thumb over it. Could it really be so simple? His thumb pressed the small button.

A beam of red light shot out of the ball. Something heavy landed on his face and he let out a yelp of shock. The ball fell from his hands and he pried the thing off of his face. There was a soft thud on the grass in front of him and he looked to see what had shot out of the ball.

The small orange lizard sat on its rear end, holding its head in its front paws. Its eyes were tightly shut, as if it were in pain. A long tail wrapped around its small body, an active flame on the tip. It let out a small 'char' and cracked open one blue eye. Coby and the creature known as Charmander stared at each other for a long moment, taking in the other's profile. After a few long moments of silence, Coby tentatively reached out his hand towards the little lizard. It glared at him and gave a soft warning growl. Coby quickly retracted his hand and held it protectively against his chest. His eyes traveled over the small Charmander's features and landed on the lit flame. Wondering if it was really fire, he reached out his hand again. His palm was only a few inches away when he felt the heat of the fire hit his skin, and at the same time the Charmander lashed out and scratched the back of his hand. Coby jerked back immediately and swore.

"Fuck! Jesus, you little shit, what the hell?" he exclaimed, clutching his hand in pain. A thin layer of blood quickly filled the three scratch marks and he looked at the small Pokémon in horror. It was grinning smugly at him. Coby narrowed his eyes. "Listen here, fucktard, I'm your fucking master, so be a good little lizard and get back in your ball," he ordered, holding out the ball towards the Charmander.

It glared up at him again and turned its head in defiance. Coby gritted his teeth and shoved the ball in its face. It smacked the ball out of his hand and raised its claws in the air, ready to strike. They stared each other down for a long while before Coby let out a frustrated sigh and stood up, mumbling an agitated 'fine' as he pushed himself off the ground. The Charmander dropped its arm but kept a suspicious eye on him. Coby took a few steps away and bent down to pick up the discarded Pokéball. He would get the Devil's spawn inside of it one day.


"I guess I should give you a name, dick squeezer."

The Charmander grunted in response, crawling on all four legs beside him. They were walking down the long path to the next town: Viridian City. The damn reptile still refused to return inside its ball and continued to disobey Coby, completely disregarding the fact that he was now his master. Coby's hand was still slightly bleeding; he didn't have any first aid supplies and couldn't really get it wrapped up anywhere but Viridian City. He once again gave the Charmander a heated glare.

"Actually, I think that's a great name for you. Dick Squeezer. You like that?" he said, giving him a mocking smirk.

He gave Coby a warning glare. They continued walking in silence, sticking to the dirt path ahead of them. Coby examined the wound on the back of his hand; he had wiped away the blood, but more had filled the gap of flesh. His hand stung and was bright red around the three scratches and he held it tentatively away from his body, avoiding brushing it against his clothes. In his other hand he still gripped the vacant ball, swinging it at his side.

"That's a nasty cut you got there."

Coby and the unnamed Charmander whirled around at the voice. There was a tall boy leaning against a nearby tree, his arms crossed across his chest. He had a mess of sandy blonde hair and bright, golden eyes that gleamed mischievously. A small smirk sat on his lips and his eyes were focused on Coby. He wore a red and white plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the curve of his elbows. The first two buttons were undone and the top of his shirt was pulled apart, opening up to reveal a cotton white tee underneath. A black necklace hung around his neck with a silver ring dangling from it. There was a black beaded bracelet on his right wrist. Five of the beads were white with black letters on them, but the boy was too far away for Coby to read them. To his right stood a small blue turtle with a dark brown shell and a squirrel-like tail. It too wore the same smirk the boy above it did.

Coby noticed the Charmander by his side grow tense. His blue eyes were narrowed in a fiery glare at the turtle and his body was coiled as if he were ready to charge. Coby felt a little uneasy by the way the Charmander reacted to the other Pokémon. He obviously hated him and Coby was more than worried that he wouldn't be able to control the little lizard if he attacked the turtle. Hoping that he could trust the Charmander to refrain from pouncing, he turned his gray eyes back to the boy in skinny jeans. "What?"

The boy nodded towards his hand. "Your hand. It's pretty banged up, you know?" the boy repeated, returning his golden eyes to Coby's. "What'd you do to it?"

Coby instinctively glared down at the hell lizard. "The little fucker attacked me," he muttered darkly.

The boy frowned and pushed himself off the tree. "You got anything to wrap it up?" When Coby replied 'no', the boy took a step forward. "Well I got some bandages if you want me to wrap it up for you," he offered, a friendly smile on his face.

When the blue turtle followed his trainer and took a step forward as well, a menacing growl ripped through the orange lizard. They both stopped in their tracks, the turtle eyeing the Charmander warily. The boy, however, didn't look away from Coby. Coby glanced down at the Charmander and frowned.

"Um," he said, "could you keep your turtle thing away? It's making him kinda aggressive."

He chuckled softly and turned his gaze to the opposing Pokémon. "Oh, they're all right. They're rivals, you know. Squirtle is a water type and Charmander is a fire type, so it's only natural for him to be a bit on the cautious side," he explained.

Coby still wasn't convinced. "I just don't want him mauling your tur – erm, Squirtle," he replied, becoming nervous at the way his Charmander shifted in position.

The boy laughed again and Coby glared at him. "You're new at this, aren't you? Your Charmander won't attack, I promise. Pokémon have this instinct to attack only when it's necessary, like if they are in battle or protecting something. He's just uncomfortable. Now, about that hand," he said, him and the Squirtle taking another step towards them.

The Charmander growled again, but true to the boy's word, he didn't attack. Instead, he took a step back, trying to put some distance between him and the water turtle. The boy was standing in front of Coby now, his fingers curling around his wrist. Coby's eyes landed on the bracelet. BRODY was spelled out in capital letters. He couldn't help but blurt out, "What the hell kind of name is Brody?"

The boy pulled out a roll of bandages, a smile on his face. "It's my name," he replied, wrapping the white bandage around Coby's hand. His golden eyes flicked up to Coby's. "What about you?" he asked.

Coby frowned. "I don't see how that's any of your business," he said stubbornly, pulling his hand away when it was properly wrapped.

"Well, you already know my name. It's a fair trade, yeah?" Brody replied, a smirk spreading across his lips. Coby remained silent.

"Fine. Lets have a battle. If you win, I'll leave you alone, but if I win you gotta tell me your name."

"No."

Brody grinned deviously. "I wasn't asking." Without breaking eye contact, Brody commanded in an authoritative voice, "Ivan, tackle."

Obeying the command, the Squirtle named Ivan dropped down on all fours and charged at the Charmander, colliding into him and knocking him back a few meters. Coby's eyes widened as he watched his Charmander slide to a stop. The small lizard pushed himself back up, its blue eyes forming two tiny slits. He gritted his teeth and crouched down low to the ground, ready to pounce. A second later he was barreling towards Ivan at full speed. The Squirtle braced himself and right before impact, he leapt out of the way. The Charmander turned around and let out a ferocious growl, standing up on his hind legs. Ivan fell back down to the ground and charged again. The small lizard stood his ground and waited, his claws extended and ready to strike. Brody's Squirtle was approaching fast, his brown eyes locked on to Coby's Charmander, whose eyes were locked on him as well. When it looked as if the Squirtle was going to tackle the Charmander a second time, the orange reptile pulled its claw back and forcefully lashed out. Ivan let out a loud 'squirtle!' and fell back, clutching the left side of its face in pain. Charmander smirked and dropped down on all fours, running towards the injured turtle. Sensing the charging opponent, Ivan snapped his eyes open and held out his arms. Their hands slammed into the other's and they both shoved for dominance.

Coby watched in awe as the two Pokémon fought. The Squirtle had maneuvered his body to one side and shoved the Charmander with his shoulder. The Charmander retaliated by pouncing on the turtle, bringing them both down to the ground. To his side Brody stood calmly, his arms casually folded across his chest. He too was watching the battle, his eyes intent and focused as the two creatures attacked the other. There was however a small frown cast over his mouth, his lips pressed into a firm line. His eyes glanced over at Coby, a questioning look on his face. Coby frowned as well. "What?" he asked indignantly.

Brody shook his head and returned his attention to the fight. "Your Charmander, he didn't even wait for your approval to fight back. He's gotta have your OK before he can attack," he explained, a perplexed expression on his face. He turned back to Coby and asked, "How long have you had him?"

He shrugged and began watching the quarrel again. "Dunno, I got him around nine this morning."

Brody gaped at him. "Jesus, you've only had him for forty minutes?" Coby nodded and Brody looked away. "Well," he mumbled, "that explains the torn up hand."

Coby said nothing. The Charmander had landed a few good scratches on the Squirtle, but now Ivan pushed him off of him and tackled him again. The Charmander let out a low grunt and landed on his back. He rolled over and pushed himself on to his feet. Coby noticed that he was panting and looked pretty banged up; there were a few bruises forming on his body and a couple scrapes from sliding on the rocky ground. He tried to stand up but the Squirtle ran full force into him, knocking him back down. Coby gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. This was starting to look bad, and Charmander didn't look like he could hold out any longer. Ivan collided into him again, this time head butting the lizard in the stomach. He was sent flying back, his body slamming into the trunk of a tree. A trickle of blood slid out of the corner of his mouth and he gazed up at the Squirtle with half lidded eyes. Ivan had his own fair share of bumps and bruises, and there were three long gashes running down the left side of his face, blood seeping out of them. The Charmander weakly pushed himself off the ground and took a step forward. He raised his arm high above his head and brought it down sharply. Ivan caught his arm and flung him to the ground harshly. This time he didn't get back up.

"Enough!" Coby shouted and bolted forward. He shoved past the Squirtle and dropped down to his knees, a shaking hand hovering over the Charmander's limp body. A soft growl rumbled through his throat and Coby sighed in relief. He heard footsteps coming up behind him and he turned around to look up at Brody. He tossed a spray bottle down to him. Coby caught it and stared at it dumbfounded.

"Spray him, it'll heal some of his wounds, but only a little. You should head straight to a Poké Center when you reach Viridian City and get him healed up." Brody paused for a second, then added, "And no more battles until you've trained with him a bit, 'kay?" He pulled out a Pokeball and a red beam of light shot out and engulfed the Squirtle, bringing it back inside. Brody stood there for a few more moments, then turned to walk away.

"Coby."

Brody stopped and twisted his head around. "What?"

"My name's Coby," he repeated, avoiding eye contact.

Brody was silent for a couple of seconds, then he grinned and let out a low chuckle. "And you asked what kind of a name Brody was." Then he walked away.

Coby sat next to his Charmander for a moment, still and silent. He stared down into its blue eyes and aimed the squirt bottle at him. The nozzle sprayed an odd smelling mist that rained down over the injured Charmander. He winced as it fell inside his various cuts, but didn't make any noise as his wounds slowly closed back up and his bruises faded slightly. After a moment of letting the potion do its work, the Charmander pushed himself up in a sitting position.

Coby stood up and took a few steps away from him. The Charmander watched him curiously. He didn't say anything for a couple of seconds, only stood with his back to his Pokémon. Then he threw the empty bottle as hard as he could and screamed. Profanities spewed from his lips and he paced back and forth madly. He turned his wild glare onto the Charmander and thrust the Pokéball in his face, demanding crossly, "Return!" The lizard glared right back and smacked his hand away. Furious, Coby screamed, "Stubborn piece of fuck!" and threw the ball far off into the woods. Everything became quiet then. Coby's hands were clenched tightly into fists, his fingernails leaving crescent shaped cuts in his palms. His breathing was heavy and his face had grown bright red from the anger he felt inside.

The Charmander looked at him quizzically before getting up and dashing into the woods. Coby watched him disappear behind some bushes and leaned against a nearby tree, dropping to the ground. He heaved a large sigh and closed his eyes, calming himself. It was obvious he was pissed for losing, and even more so that the Pokémon he had chosen wouldn't even listen to a damn thing he said. He hoped he never had to see that damn Brody character again; he wasn't sure if he could handle the embarrassment of bumping into him. There was a rustling sound and Coby opened his eyes. The Charmander came crawling out of the bushes, his Pokéball held between his tiny hands. There was a sullen look on his face as he trudged forward until he was standing next to Coby. He didn't make eye contact when he held out his hands and waited for Coby to take the ball. When he did, the Charmander plopped down by his side, the bitter expression never leaving his face. Coby gazed down at him inquisitive; it looked as if he was mad at himself for losing, too. The small lizard reached up and pressed the tiny button in the middle of the ball and in a beam of red light was transported back inside. Coby stared at the ball for a long time, feeling the familiar weight and warmth of the now occupied Pokeball.

"Damien," he simply stated.

Inside the ball came an approving 'char'.