Happy Halloween, y'all! If you're looking for a more Halloween-themed fic, I suggest popping over and reading my story from last year, "Black Cats and Candy Bars," if you haven't already. It's actually my most popular story, believe it or not.
Anyway, this one is not really Halloween themed in a Halloween way, but it's somewhat relevant, I think. I don't know, decide for yourselves. There are some things in this story that some readers may be sensitive about. This is your warning. Listen to it.
See you at the bottom!
The Johto region is full of its mythologies, many well-known even among foreigners. Cherrygrove City, however, holds its own legend that remains untold by many. It may not be particularly old, occurring no less than ten years ago, but those old enough to remember warn younger citizens and passersby not to wander Cherrygrove's beach at night, lest they bump into a spirit. The story is kept alive by those of us who remember, like I, and are obligated to tell those, like you, who do not know of it. So, let us begin.
It was ten years ago that two trainers, both sixteen years of age, came by the beach, each from a different direction. Neither had seen the other before, and both were lost in thought so great that they noticed each other then. They came and went near sunrise, sometimes spending until it was completely dark on the shore. That first day, nothing notable came of their encounter other than a small, polite nod on one's part and a stiff, unfeeling gaze on the other's. Nothing more, nothing less.
It was the second week of them repeating this pattern when they began interacting more. One of the trainers, a girl with an easy, tired smile, brought two steaming foam cups with her, anticipating running into the stranger she often passed. She usually brought only one, but thought she would do something nice for the stranger. She sipped her own cup, filled with coffee to keep her on her feet for the rest of the day. As soon as she caught glimpse of the stranger, a boy her age whose shoulders was always slumped forward, she stopped and held out the second cup of coffee. No words were said, though she did add a softer, hopeful smile.
Instead of acknowledging her or taking the coffee, he ignored her presence completely and walked passed, his sneakers making distinct imprints in the sand as he walked away with not even a wave. The girl was a little put off, left staring at his retreating back, but two things came out of the encounter: a desire to know more about the boy, and another cup of coffee for her.
Now, you may be wondering what this has to do with the spirit or the legend. Don't worry; I'll get there in time. For now, listen.
After a couple of weeks of the same kinds of interactions, autumn began to set in, making the beach walks chillier, windier, and shorter. The girl traded out her coffee for the sweet warmth of hot chocolate, taking the comforting flavor over caffeine. Nothing changed about the boy as far as she could see; his steely, uncrackable demeanor remained as strong as it had been. It was around this time that the girl started the next step in her plan to learn more about him.
One morning around mid-autumn, rather than starting on the east side of the beach as she usually did, she stood in the middle, waiting for the boy to appear from the west. Although he never accepted her offering, she brought him a cup of hot chocolate, as it could never hurt to try.
And so she waited, her gaze fixed for hours on the horizon, until finally she noticed him walking towards her, his gaze set on something in the distance as it usually was. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his ever-present coat, his entire presence screaming "do not disturb." Rather than letting him walk by her like always, the girl stepped in time with him, their strides evenly matched. He seemed not to notice for a moment- or he was ignoring her yet again- until she asked him if he wanted the hot chocolate; her first spoken words to him.
He paused, his tired eyes searching her face and then the cup for something. Finally, to her surprise, he took the hot chocolate from her and sipped it with an inaudible thanks though it had grown cold. His acceptance of her and her offering brightened her day that much more, no matter how small of a gesture.
Through the rest of autumn and the warmer days of winter, for the beach was never fully blanketed in snow, they repeated this interaction until it became a routine. Once the end of winter approached, the trainers found that they knew more about each other than they would've imagined.
The girl was the first to open up, having more trust than she knew what to do with. She had been a trainer for a few years, since she was twelve, but second-guessed herself too often. She was not as strong as her friends and hadn't made it far in the Silver or Indigo Leagues, being beaten by the first of the Elite Four almost every time. In fact, she had felt inferior to her friends since she began her journey. It was always difficult for her to beat gym leaders, though at times her team had the type advantage. She never did beat her friends, both of whom went on to defeat both leagues. The walks on the beach were meant to distract her from her negativity, but the same thoughts kept slipping into her mind.
The boy took much longer to speak about himself, and when he did he only shared little things at different times. He, unlike the girl, had trust issues, among other things. His father was absent for much of his life, off running an evil group that was defeated years ago, and he never knew his mother. He was never exposed to the love of a parent, a sibling, or a friend. His closest friends were his pokémon, he explained to her. And even then, he was told by many that he needed to connect with them on a deeper level.
Neither of them visited their home in a while. The boy had no home to go to, as his father was now in jail. He could inhabit his father's house, but chose not to. As for the girl, there was no way in hell she would let her mom see her as anything other than a ray of sunshine. Instead, she called home every night, telling her mom that she was still traveling across the region when she was actually camping outside of Cherrygrove City. She quite liked camping, but was also reluctant to admit that she started months ago after her most recent defeat at the hands of the Elite Four. At this point, she gave up on beating any of the leagues, since she couldn't even beat her friends.
It's always a sad scene when someone who dreamed of something for so long gives up on that dream. Even the boy, used to feeling nothing other than bitterness, regret, and anger, saw this.
So the next day, he brought her the hot chocolate. She smiled and thanked him upon receiving it, but he could now see the fragileness in the expression. It unnerved him, noticing the pain behind her eyes for the first time. But then she started talking, her eyes always set on her drink or the horizon, and their walk continued on as normal.
Midway through spring was when things began to change.
The girl had been truly happy for a while, her thoughts consumed by the boy walking next to her every day. The two even trained together instead of walking, and exchanged pokégear numbers at her insistence. She was proud to say that she was improving thanks to the training, and her pokémon seemed content as well, making friends with the boy's pokémon.
Things were looking up for both of the trainers, at least until one of the girl's friends was passing through the city and spotted them. It was a pleasant surprise at first, since she hadn't seen him in a while and was meaning to introduce him to her new friend. The three of them talked for a short while before her old friend challenged her to a battle, as was their custom.
She was doomed from the start, not that she noticed. Even with her recent training, her old friend beat both the Indigo League and Silver League champions. There was nothing her new friend could say to talk her out of it, though; she was set on proving her strength to not only her old friend, but to herself. And, as she should have expected, she lost, though now after valiant effort.
The rest of the day and night, she put up an impressive façade of cheerfulness that completely fooled her old friend, but the boy she walked with saw right through it. He knew her well enough now that he could tell when she was bullshitting him or anyone else.
As soon as her old friend left for their hometown of New Bark Town, her composure crumpled and she fell into her new friend. Her sobs drenched his coat, but he didn't pull away like he would've before. There was no denying that the time they spent together brought them close. Neither wanted to see the other in such a state, not when they deserved more.
Since the battle, the girl's emotional health went downhill, fast. She didn't want to train anymore, claiming that her skills were as good as they would ever be, much to the boy's annoyance. As far as he could tell from their training, all she lacked was practice. All of the skill and spirit associated with a good battler was there, along with the powerful attacks and strategy. Hell, she almost beat him a couple of times during their few battles, and he couldn't remember the last time he lost. Then again, she probably couldn't remember the last time she won.
Oh, here I go off on a tangent, and I apologize. I'm sure you all are still wondering about the spirit. We're almost to that point; hold on a little longer.
It didn't go unnoticed when the girl's behavior changed. She became more sluggish, even after trading the hot chocolate back for coffee. Her eyes drooped earlier in their walks, sometimes before noon, signifying her tiredness. She stopped caring enough to put her hair up, leaving it flowing down her back, tangling in the breeze. When he asked how much sleep she got each night, she answered only with an abrasive "enough," never quantifying her response. He wished it didn't have to come to this, but he was worried about her.
He tried to confront her about her behavior, he really did. Each time he brought it up, she waved him off, saying that she was feeling stressed because she was supposed to visit her mom soon. He nodded like he believed her, which made her relax a bit, but he knew that wasn't the only thing that was bothering her.
It turned out that she wasn't lying about visiting her mom, though; she missed a whole week's worth of walks. Yet, over the phone on the first night, she told him that she was only going to be gone for a day or two. The boy knew that New Bark Town was less than a day's walk from Cherrygrove City, so it was fair that he was worried about her. However, he couldn't tell her; in no way, shape, or form would she appreciate it at the moment.
As it turned out, her mom ran into her old friend when he returned to New Bark Town, and was asking her why her friend said they hadn't seen each other in a while. The girl answered with the fact that she hung around Cherrygrove City for a while "to train." To make a long story short, her mom forced her to stay home for longer once she noticed the girl's abnormally pale skin. The girl chalked it up to "a typical mother's paranoia," tacking on a small, phony smile at the end.
There was no way the boy believed her on that. He dropped the subject either way, not wanting to make her angry with him. At this point, she was his only friend who wasn't one of his pokémon, as pathetic as that was. And, as much as it surprised him, he didn't want to drive her away.
He ignored her thinning figure and paling skin for weeks, stretching into summer now. Before he knew it, she looked like a ghost. She began showing up late for their walks and was accompanied with extra coffee and swollen red eyes, like she had been crying. He was finally fed up with ignoring the problem, fearing for her health. Before he could bring it up, she stopped in her tracks and took his hand in her cold, clammy one. Everything slowed as she stepped onto her tiptoes to plant a quick kiss on his lips before she continued walking, his hand still in hers. It took him by surprise, and judging by the delicate blush that dusted her cheeks, she was surprised by her own actions. He never did get the chance to bring the subject up that day.
The next few days he kept trying as her appearance worsened and she slowed down even more. He wasn't sure what stopped him short of telling her she needed help, but it was almost like there was a forcefield around her that stopped him.
After a week filled with her distractions, he finally worked up the nerve to bring up her behavior. He spoke calmly but seriously, needing her to pay attention to his every word. He told her about how he noticed her deteriorating figure and her gloomy demeanor that seemed so different that when they first met. He explained that he was starting to be worried for her- no, he had been for a while. He didn't want her to hurt herself more than she already had.
To her credit, she didn't say anything until he was finished. As soon as he looked to her for her response, she sat in the sand, pulling her knees up to her chest. At least nobody was around at that moment to see her like that, the silent tears trickling down her cheeks. She told him through sobs that she felt useless compared to her friends- she hadn't been able to help years ago when they took down the remains of an evil organization. She was a disappointment.
He sat down beside her, a hand placed gently on her arched back, listening to her. Once she got her words out and had no tears left to cry, she leaned into him, her head against his chest as she tried to steady her breathing. If it was any other person getting so close to him, he would have pushed them away; she knew that, too. This privilege was only for her, and nobody else.
They stayed that way for a long time, until night fell completely. They watched the sunset dye the sky all different shades of pink, orange, blue, and purple, the sun glowing pure orange. At one point she fell asleep, still against him, and he didn't have the heart to wake her up. That's how they woke up the next morning.
The next few days were marginally better, though the girl was still consumed with raw emotion. The boy gave her a bit of a pep talk, and even though he wasn't so good at it, he at least made her crack a small smile. It was the little things that were victories at this point, he realized.
The girl started trying to sleep more and focused more on her many amazing qualities. She laid off on the coffee, too, switching back to hot chocolate even in the middle of summer. The two began talking of better things, like their pokémon and how they were playing together like they were newly hatched. Sometimes she even smiled like she had before.
After weeks everything returned to their version of normal, where every talk came easy and the presence of the other was enough. Only this time, it was accompanied with a few more kisses and I love yous. The girl seemed so happy, the boy actually believed that she was doing better.
Towards the tail end of summer, he picked up his ringing pokégear and was utterly shocked to hear what the person on the other end said.
Somehow, it was the girl's mom, her voice devoid of all emotion though still tense. The girl returned home for a visit a couple days before- he knew this, yes- but yesterday morning she left to run an errand. She didn't say exactly where it was, but he had a horrible notion, especially when her mom continued on.
The girl was expected back before nightfall, but she never arrived. Her mom tried calling her, but none of the calls were answered. She called all of the girl's friends, none of whom saw her that day or even knew she was in town. They were all worried, the sky having gone dark minutes before. With nowhere else to go, her mom checked her room.
There was a silence on the other end of the line before she continued, and the boy was not interrupting. Nothing was odd about the room, her mom said, except for a few things she almost didn't notice.
First, everything was made neatly, which never happened in all of her years of trying to get the girl to make her bed. Second, her pokégear was on her desk next to her computer, which explained why she wasn't answering her calls. The one question was, why didn't the girl bring it with her?
An answer came when her mom noticed the next thing. All six of the girl's poké balls were laid out in a row, a hastily folded note next to them. Her mom began panicking, the thought of her daughter out who-knows-where with nothing to protect her overwhelming. However, when her mom picked up and read the note, she ran for the phone and called the police immediately.
The note, listener, was a suicide note.
The boy almost dropped his pokégear when he heard this, a million thoughts racing through his mind. This had to be a joke; she seemed happy a few days ago! But then, maybe it was acting. He heard before that suddenly being happy after a long bout of depression was a warning sign. He shook his head in disbelief. How had he not noticed? He always knew when she was lying. He didn't even want to think about it.
Her mom asked if he was still there; he hadn't spoken since she told him. She said that she would appreciate it if he dropped by her house and sent the address. Her daughter told her a lot about him, but never had the chance to meet him herself. Their conversation wrapped up soon after, leaving the boy along on the beach.
The next few days were filled with pain and disbelief. Maybe if he wished hard enough, the girl would show up and they'd be on their way with hot chocolate and smiles. The only thing still present next to him was an empty space that he couldn't fill.
He ended up stopping by the girl's house after the fifth day, hesitantly knocking on the door. He didn't want to step foot on Cherrygrove's beach anymore, not without her. His walks were all wrong without her. But now here he was, waiting to see her own mom without her. Which was worse?
Her mom, who looked nothing like her daughter, welcomed him in without a second thought and offered him a drink, to which he declined. Any emotion that had grown into his voice disappeared along with the girl, leaving him with the monotone he'd had before. He asked why she wanted to meet him, even after everything. Her eyes misted, and he noticed that they were the same shade of caramel as he daughter's. She explained how highly her daughter spoke of him, how in love she was. Moreover, her daughter left something for him to see.
Reluctantly, he was led up to the girl's room, trembling as his steely front corroded. He wasn't sure if he was ready to see a whole room that would remind him of the girl he missed more than he ever missed anyone. But there, standing in the middle of her clean bedroom, he felt her presence surrounding him as though she never left.
Everything about the room was so her. The entire floor was cleared, but with traces of old papers shoved under her bed in the corner. Her baby blue curtains were drawn back, letting in the sunlight that no longer felt warm to him. In the corner diagonal from her bed was a small television and a Nintendo Wii system, with game cases littered beside it. And right next to that was her desk and computer, her clock showing the time above it. Even the small rug in the center of the hardwood floor was plush, something he'd expect she would like.
And her walls, the same baby blue as the curtains, were almost completely covered. It would take him hours to fully examine all of them, but he got the main idea of them. There were multiple of her and her pokémon in various locations from her journey, and some of her and her friends. Others were clippings from magazines of the started pokémon from every region, the most recent added ones being the Alola starters, he assumed, as those seemed newer to him. Even more were the pictures that were hand-drawn, most landscapes of every city and place of interest in Johto. It was incredible to take a look into the girl's life like this.
Almost everything was right where it was left, her mom explained, except for what was found on her bed. Her mom let the girl's pokémon out, and they were currently outside, though they were too far into grieving to play much. He understood that her mom would want to leave everything the way it was before.
Her mom handed him a piece of paper, which was soft and creased like it was unfolded and folded many times over. He almost didn't know what it was until her mom explained that this was a copy of the note, as the police still had the original. He tried to hand it back, but opened it when her mother insisted that there was a message inside for him.
He read the note to himself, not skimming over a single word. And with every passing word, his heart dropped more than it had already.
Not much for me to say here. I have no purpose, really. Even after years of trying, I went nowhere with my dream. I had to abandon it, but look where that left me. It's a lose-lose situation.
Mom, I'm sorry, and remember that I love you. Please let my friends know. There, listed, were the pokégear numbers of him and two other people. I've marked my poké balls, two for each person to take care of. I know they were all close with my friends. Of course, if you want to take care of them yourself, go right ahead. I know they love you, too. Please let them know that I love them.
Everyone else, none of this was your fault. This was nobody's fault but my own, and I've seen it coming for a while. Don't let this drag you down forever; you all have your lives to live. I know you'll do something amazing. I was a small supporting character in the stories of your lives. I wish I could've said goodbye to you all (especially you, Silver. Thank you for trying to make my life brighter. I'm going to miss you a lot, love), but it was already hard for me as is.
I can't say enough how much I'll miss all of you, but this was something I've been thinking of for a long time. This was the best way for me to get rid of my negativity, of my uselessness, for good. I'm sorry, and I love you.
Silver's grip remained tight on the paper as his eyes rolled over it two, three, maybe four times. There was no signature, but he could recognize her handwriting anywhere, even after seeing it only a handful of times. Finally he folded the paper again and handed it back to her teary-eyed mom. He didn't say a word as she pulled him in for a tight yet awkward embrace, neither of them talking for minutes.
He left not too long after that, promising her mom that he'd stop by every once and a while. He left the girl's pokémon with her, as her mom expressed an interest in taking care of all of them. He couldn't imagine how they must be feeling about this; they'd known the girl far longer than he had.
Instead of going to Cherrygrove City, towards the beach where they spent so much time, he went the other direction, towards Tohjo Falls and the Kanto-Johto border. He didn't want to return to the beach, not now and probably not ever. That must've been where she did it, right? He couldn't think of anywhere else significant enough where nobody would be able to find her body.
It was all he could think about, even as he released his feraligatr from its poké ball and began surfing to the other side. Nothing felt the same about him; he couldn't find the peace he did while he walked with her. Now his thoughts consumed him almost as much as they did before he met her, distracting him as his feraligatr climbed the waterfall to the top.
He needed to get out of Johto. He hadn't gone anywhere with her other than the beach, but he knew that he'd see a little of her everywhere. There was no doubt in his mind that she'd changed everyone's lives somehow. He needed somewhere where she hadn't been such a big part of, where they could both have anonymity.
So he crossed the border into Kanto. He started work as an ace trainer on Victory Road, surprising himself by making a new friend in one of the champions of the Indigo League, a girl about three years older than him named Leaf. And while he found this friendship worthwhile and comfortable, he never found the same level of closeness with her as he did with the girl.
And he never found out in those ten years between then and now that every night, footprints show up on the sands of Cherrygrove beach that have no owner. Everyone claims it's a ghost pokémon messing around, but those who know of the girl- which was actually a lot of people, as she was the friend of two hall-of-famers- began to have doubts as they persisted night after night.
And that, my friend, is the origin of Cherrygrove's spirit.
But who is the spirit, you may be asking yourself. You may even be wondering how I know all of this in the first place. I may as well tell you, as thanks for listening.
It may have been ten years ago, but I still remember everything that occurred. How the spirit, a sixteen-year-old named Lyra, fell in love with her new friend Silver, but the pain of living as a disappointment to herself was too great for her to keep trying to achieve her dream. After the footprints started showing up on the beach, and in the days before, nobody ever found her body.
I know the most about this legend; I know of everything that transpired on those soft sand beaches. Nobody asks me to tell the story, though; they turn to the older citizens of the city for that. Do you want to know why? Of course you do.
My name is Lyra, and I have been walking this beach at night for ten years. I've been repeating my story into the night for all that may hear, though nobody ever does. I keep the story of my love for Silver alive, so that he may hear it again when- if- he returns.
Now that that has been cleared up, there is only one question left in your mind, I suppose: How come nobody has ever found my body? Well.
I never did say whether or not I actually died, did I? After all, you can't trust everything you hear.
Mysteriousness? Check.
Characters actually being revealed? Check.
Narrator being revealed? Check.
Open-to-interpretation ending? Check.
Who honestly saw this coming? I tried my best to not make it obvious, but you may have still seen it from the beginning. I actually was inspired in part by the chorus of Garth Brooks' song "Beaches of Cheyenne," specifically the lines: "And to this day they claim/That if you go down by the water/You'll see her footprints in the sand/'Cause every night she walks the beaches of Cheyenne." It's a great song, so if you've never heard it before, I highly suggest you go listen to it!
Don't forget to favorite this story if you liked it and drop a review to let me know how I did and what I can do better next time! And, once again, happy Halloween, everyone!
Edit 5/7/18: I edited this a lot for Creative Writing. I'll probably work on editing and updating my other fics sometime this year, too, along with new content