Dear Diary,
I had the dream again last night.
I remember swimming vision. Screams. Shouts.
I remember pain.
I wake up sweating whenever I have that dream.
My hands never seem clean of the blood I see in the dreams.
...
Whose blood is it?
Pokémon
Transgression
By Crukix
|Normality Is But A State Of Mind|
-O-O-O-
"I hate you!"
I glare daggers at my tent. It mocks me as it sits on the floor, refusing to stay up. I know how to put them up – Dad takes us on a camping trip once a year. He says it was in case Jerry or I ever became a trainer, so that we know how to cope on our own.
I've always had some help though. It feels weird to just be doing it all by myself. I know I can let out Kiki to help, but it would probably just sit there and refuse to do anything.
It takes me nearly half an hour to finally wrestle the tent into place. I know that I could have avoided all the hassle if I sleep in just a sleeping bag. But I don't like the thought of that. People might be able to walk near me while I'm sleeping. It just seems creepy.
I sigh to myself and know I have to let out Kiki for the night. It can stay in the tent with me, but I don't want to be alone during the night. I need it around to keep watch and make sure nothing's coming after us.
I take Kiki's poké ball from my pocket and let it out. It forms the familiar shape of a green cactus with bright pink flowered ears and yellow thorns covering its body. It stares at me with bright yellow eyes and stumbles on the spot, two tiny legs hidden under a covering of roots.
It rolls its eyes round to me and gives me an unimpressed stare. I'm convinced the maractus hates me, though I can't find a definitive reason for why. Maybe it's just angry.
"We're setting down for the night," I tell it. "Do whatever you want, but I need you to stay in the tent tonight."
It squawks indignantly and shuffles away from me. I pout as I reach into my bag and find some food. I wonder why Dad never bought me a fire pokémon as I sit down and set fire to some sticks with a match. I manage to cook myself some rice and vegetables without burning anything and sit down to eat it. Kiki stares at me a little and it hits me that I've forgotten to feed it. Sheepishly I reach into my bag and pour some food into a bowl for it. It huffs at me, takes the bowl and remains a fair distance away from me as it eats.
I don't know why it doesn't like me. I don't really like it, but it's my only companion now. Dad trained it for a little while to make sure it's strong enough for such a journey. I know he did the same with Jerry's doduo. I remember it always screeching and attacking Jerry whenever he went near it. He often ended up running around the garden being chased by the two-headed bird.
Remembering it makes me laugh. Kiki glares at me around a mouthful of food. I poke my tongue at it. It hisses something I can't understand. Its collar feels heavy in my backpack, waiting for me to put it on the pokémon. Of course, that means I'll have to get close enough to it to put a collar on it. I've been smacked by its needle-filled arms before. It hurts. And Mum isn't here to help pull the needles out of me.
"Why do you hate me?" I ask. It's weird to sit in silence. Mealtimes with my family are always loud. It usually involves the pokémon fighting over food or Dad being leapt on by his pokémon. Mum's pokémon are a bit quieter at meal times, but they get really possessive over their food – if anything else goes near them when they're eating, they attack. It's weird to go from such a loud environment to this quiet.
Kiki grunts something I can't understand. I realise how stupid it was to ask something from it. I sigh to myself and poke what remains of my food. It just doesn't taste as nice as anything Mum makes. My stomach tells me I'm not hungry anymore and I look at what remains. "Do you want it?" I ask my pokémon.
It glares at me, then at the remaining food. Finally it swipes the remaining food for me and hides away from me once more as it eats.
It strikes me that this will be my life for a while. My pokémon hates me and it's going to be a while before I can catch a new one.
Of course, that means training a new one. As well as actually catching one in the first place.
What if the next one hates me too?
I hug myself as I stare at the fire, mourning the loss of my phone and the way to talk to people. I want to talk to Mum and Dad. I want to hear their voices; to know that everything's going to be okay. Even if it's not, I want to hear them tell me it will be.
I look at the dark red watch on my wrist and stare at the date for the longest time, silently hoping I can somehow move time forwards. I want Jerry to appear and help me out. Being a trainer is exactly as boring as I thought it would be and has none of the amazing tales they always show on the cartoons.
This sucks.
"Finished?" I ask Kiki as it drops the plate on the floor. It glares as I take them both, toss the remaining bits of food away from my little camp and throw the plates into my backpack. I can't be bothered to find a stream to try and wash them in. I just want to crawl up in bed and wait for everything to be better.
I kick dirt into the campfire and look at my pokémon – my sole conversational companion for however long everything decides it hates me for. "I'm going to bed," I tell it. "You need to stay in the tent with me."
Its face is dark like a scowl and it warbles something I don't understand. Even still, it wobbles into the tent and stands there like a weird bedside lamp. I laugh at the thought of pulling a chord and making its head light up, which only serves to make it glower at me once more.
Stupid cactus.
It hisses, almost like it can read my mind. I press my hands to my head, frown and try to catch whatever words might be slipping out. I frown back at it, realise it can't learn anything like that and decide that it's just being evil.
"Whatever," I grunt as it plants its roots in the soft dirt. I scowl at it, remember that Dad bought this tent solely because it let Kiki still do that and feel a little pang of homesickness yet again. I climb into my sleeping bag, look at the little missing patch of tent that lets Kiki stand in the dirt and know I'm going to be cold when winter comes along.
If I'm even still travelling then.
But I've got to, don't I? Because of everything with that stupid dead phone-pokémon-thing.
And what about Christmas? Am I even going to be able to go home for then?
And Mum and Dad's birthdays. Jerry's too.
I feel my eyes begin to leak as I pull the covers of my sleeping bag up to my chin and hug it as if it's the only other person left in the world. Everything in my life's changed, all because of me being stupid and touching a smelly, wrinkly dead pokémon.
My life is this; Craig's vanished off the face of the world and my parents have had to quit their current lives, all because of my stupid mistake.
"Ah, poo," I groan. Something sharp shoots into my back and I yelp, nearly leap out of the sleeping bag and glare daggers at my pokémon. It chuckles a weird sound – a constant 'kikikiki' that I named it after – as I flinch and try to pull the long cactus needle out of my back.
"Dad's not around anymore, I can swear all I like," I growl defiantly at it.
It hisses something I don't understand and turns its head away. I wonder just why the hell Dad had to teach it to needle me every time I said a bad word and whether or not I'll be able to stop it from doing so.
More than that, I wonder how I'm the trainer and yet my pokémon is the one calling all the shots.
Stupid cactus.
A needle stabs into the back of my leg.
I'm convinced it can read minds.
-O-O-O-
My sleep is stolen from me by someone shaking me gently awake. I roll over in my bed, bat my hand and manage a sleepy grunt.
"Hi Mum," I mumble, eyes still not open, brain still not awake.
Mum grunts something that sounds a lot like the way Kiki sounds. All at once everything catches up with me and I groan, bury myself into my covers and want everything to go back to the way it was.
Kiki mutters something and I groan from beneath my warm not-bed.
"I'm awake!" I shout at it, voice muffled by the covers. It grunts and I hear it walk away, open the tent and leave.
I open my eyes and blink like a noctowl for a good few minutes. I'm certain I never taught it how to use the tent. In fact, if it wasn't for Dad telling me I had to keep it in there, I'd have never even let it in my tent in the first place.
I scowl at the direction of the tent flaps. Dad must have taught it how to use it. Or Mum. One of them committed the traitorous act of letting my pokémon know how to work my tent! I sigh and decide that when I see them again, I'm so going to tell them off for it.
I poke my head out of my covers and find nothing's changed overnight. Kiki hasn't poked holes in the tent and nothing appears to have gone missing. I grunt to myself, manage to get changed and pack everything away without much incident – save for discovering that Kiki's needles managed to leave little holes in my pyjamas.
Stupid cactus.
I get out of the tent and find Kiki shuffling around outside. It grunts something, points to the floor and shows me a pile of berries its collected while I've been getting ready.
Something like guilt, surprise and humility flutters in my tummy.
"Are those for me?" I ask it.
It gives me a sarcastic expression. I blush and stare down at the floor. "Oh, okay. Thanks. I didn't think you'd do anything like that."
It grunts, skewers a few on longer needles and sits there, eating them. Juices slide down the needles and onto its skin. It reaches over and manages to navigate its prickly skin easily enough to lick the juice off without harm.
I shrug and decide that it's worth trying what my pokémon has brought me. Dad taught it to look after me, I know that much. He wouldn't trust it with me if he thought it would collect berries that would make me poo for a week.
I try the biggest one there is. It's sweet and tastes like squishy pears. I've ate nearly half the pile before Kiki stops me. I look up at it, hear it speak but don't understand it. Finally its message gets across; that we should save some of the food for later.
"Oh, okay," I mumble and quickly pack my tent away. I'm thankful we went on all those camping trips and for all the times that I was made to put my tent away on my own – even if at the time I thought it was just my parents being the most evil things that ever existed.
Once my camp is completely stripped and packed way, Kiki grunts something at me. It points towards the way we've been walking and makes a motion.
I feel a flutter of nervousness come into my tummy. I haven't walked the way Striaton on my own before – I've always been with someone or one of my parents drove me there. When we did walk, we never took this route I'm taking now.
"Um…" I mumble as I stare at my map. "We need to keep heading that way, apparently. Then turn that way here and we should be there." I bite my lip and look at my pokémon. "You think that's the right way?"
It makes a noise I don't understand.
"Whatever," I sigh, stuffing my map back into a pocket. I take a breath, try to bundle up all the nerves I feel and take another step closer to Striaton. Kiki shuffles beside me, my pace slow enough for it to keep up; fast enough to that it has to make an effort.
"I want a puppy," I decide randomly as I see a few scampering around. Kiki makes a dark noise, almost like it's jealous. Or probably more annoyed that I'll make it fight to try and get one. I feel around in my pockets, find no spare poké balls and sigh to myself.
"Oh well," I grunt as we keep walking past them. They stop to look at us as we pass; eyes wide and little tails wagging. They're just so cute that I want to steal one and keep it as my own.
Then I remember the one that horrible girl Sarah in my class had. She brought it in once; it ripped up everyone's work, stole our food from our bags and then did a great big poo in the middle of the classroom. The only good thing it did was pee up against Mr Bradford's leg.
I laugh to myself as I remember it. Kiki gives me a strange look. "You remember Mr Bradford, don't you? He was my Pokémon Studies teacher last year. When I brought you into school that day? He liked you."
The mention of that makes Kiki seem to glow with pride. It tutters something as it shuffles along, needles at the ready to stab me if I curse again.
"Of course, he never knew you," I whisper darkly. Kiki grunts and I feign innocence. It gives me a distrusting look but carries on walking nearby, needles just a little bit more ready to stab me.
"So no puppies then," I decide. "I don't want to have to train it not to pee on me. Or po-go bathroom in my sleeping bag."
Kiki gives me a satisfied look at how quickly I can stop cursing. Needles flashing, its arms sway by its side as it walks in rhythm with me.
"I think that's why Dad got me you. You don't do that; you're a plant-thing. Jerry's doduo was always doing that." I burst out laughing at the mental imagery that blossoms into my mind. "Like one his tenth birthday, when it ran around the house when it had a runny bum! There were white stains everywhere, Mum was going crazy, Dad was screaming at Jerry, Jerry was in tears and the doduo somehow ended up on the chandelier!"
My laugh dies quickly as I realise that my pokémon isn't sharing it with me. I sigh and hug myself, staring at the floor. "I miss those times. I miss everyone. I don't want a flying pokémon. They're evil. Especially one of Jerry's."
Kiki clucks something, like its paying attention. But I see the way it stares out at the forests, watching everything and playing guard. Its attention is elsewhere, like Dad when he reads the paper and Mum stands around talking to him.
Habit forces me to go for my pocket for my phone. Too late do I remember that I don't own one anymore and I can't talk to them. I sniff, try to turn my mind towards other things and decide instead to play out what I remember from class.
Maybe if I get those five badges I'll get let into my school after all.
The thought keeps me entertained as I walk along the grassy pathways. We stop a few times to rest or to have something to eat; once or twice to use the bathroom somewhere in the forest – though only when I'm busting and about to wet myself. All the while I remember what histories I can and try to pick the little holes in everything that I figure out.
"That thing with Team Plasma was weird," I tell my pokémon. "If that man was really raised with pokémon all the time, why didn't he act more like them? He could speak, couldn't he? But he always had an argument ready for everything."
Kiki makes a noise that sounds like disinterest. I shrug to myself and muse over other things in my mind. It's not like my pokémon would be much help in discovering things. I need something old to figure out histories. Like a sigilyph!
Except those are incredibly rare and found only by experienced trainers or pokémon hunters.
Maybe a confagrigus!
Same problem.
"Ah… poo."
Another needle launches into my arm. I shriek, flail uselessly and glare at my pokémon as it cackles in delight at my pain.
Stupid cactus.
Maybe I should go to another region to catch something. Hoenn have things like claydol and relicanth. Except I'd need water to keep one of those fishies in. Sinnoh has bronzor and ghosts like frosslass and rotom, but they're too hard to train. Kanto has gengars and alakazams, but same problem again. And Johto has misdrevous, but they're meant to be just plain evil.
"What do you think I should catch?" I ask Kiki. It gives me a bored expression and carries on walking without answering me. I pout at it, hope that somehow I'll get an answer out of it, but instead I get more silence.
I stop at the sights around me and start to feel a little lost. Nothing on my map says anything about what I should see. It's stupid! I don't see why they can't have pictures, or diagrams or something that will let me know just where I am!
I'm lost.
In the middle of nowhere.
And no one knows where I am!
I start to panic, dream up increasingly stupid scenarios of what's going to happen when my pokémon grunts and points at a nearby sign. I blink stupidly, hand over my thundering heart and it takes me a while to even realise there's writing on it.
Once I do, I manage a little, "Oh," of relief.
Another quarter of mile that-a-way. My nervousness bubbles down into nothingness and I feel even more stupid when I realise that if I squint hard enough, I can just about see the buildings in the far distance.
Well. I feel stupid now.
I hear the sounds of something moving through the tall – over waist-height on me – grass and find another person coming towards me. I breathe a little sigh of relief, know I can ask them for directions and maybe even get them to help me to the town.
I quickly find out he has other things on his mind.
He's a lot older than me – older than Jerry! A little bit of fluff grows on his chin and his hair is pulled back into things that look like rows they use on farms. His skin is like the charcoal Craig often uses in school and he's got a few scratches and slashes over his clothes – little bits of blood too.
He catches sight of me and smiles. Not a friendly smile. Not an evil smile. Just a 'hello-don't-mind-me' sort of smile.
He stops when he sees Kiki and his eyes light up in a little bit of surprise.
"Hey, that maractus yours?"
He has a weird accent I can't quite place. I frown at him, slightly put off by it. I manage to nod and hold Kiki a little bit closer. Whether I'm protecting me or it, I'm not certain. "Yeah. Its name is Kiki."
"Right," the man says. He grins and plucks a poké ball from his belt. "Say kid, how about a battle?"
I feel a smile work its way onto my face. I've battled before loads of times – almost always against Jerry, once or twice against my parents and a few times in school. I know how to battle and I know just how quickly I can beat this guy.
"Sure," I say, smiling confidently. "Go on Kiki, battle time."
It gives me possibly the most interested looks I've seen it give me in a long time and shuffles in front of me. The man backs away a number of paces and calls out something he calls Arthur.
Arthur turns out to be a massive bug. A massive bee. With spear-arms as long as my legs!
I back away instinctively from the angry-looking beedrill. It hovers in place in front of the guy, wings buzzing but otherwise not making any sort of move. It takes me just more than a moment to notice the most obvious thing about it though.
"Eew!" I moan and point at the insect. "It's green! It looks like snot!"
The man pulls a face. "I'll have you know Arthur's a special beedrill. I'm a pokémon hunter – he was the first strange pokémon I found and the one that got me into all of this."
"But it's green," I say, unable to get over the fact.
The man rolls his eyes. "We've established that. So I'll let you go first then."
I smirk to myself, confidence building. "Kiki, seed it!"
My pokémon puffs up, smug as me. It fires little tiny seeds the man makes his beedrill knock away with blasts of silvery air. One or two come close enough to land on the bug but it slices them apart before they can actually land on its face. I frown and try to convince Kiki to aim properly. More little blasts of winds keep knocking all the little seeds away though.
"Coup toxic!"
I blink a little at whatever he just said; slightly convinced my ears have gone all funny. His beedrill is attacking though and there's not enough time for me to wonder about words.
"Defend!"
Kiki cackles as little balls of cotton appear all around it. The beedrill's stingers glow bright purple as it charges towards Kiki. It buzzes and finds itself lost in a cloud of cotton, buzzes getting angrier and angrier from within. Kiki laughs and fires a little seed that strikes it on the back of the head. It seems to anger it more and it blows everything away with another gust of silvery wind.
And somehow, it seems all the faster from it.
Before Kiki can react the bee is in its face, stingers piercing its stomach and leaking thick, purple sludge into them. The man shouts out another command I don't understand and the bee drives its bottom into Kiki's leg, pumping more ugly-smelling stuff into my pokémon. Kiki screams and fills the thing with needles, slaps it in the face and even makes a little tear in the wing, but it's not enough.
"Stop!" I scream and recall my pokémon. I stare at Kiki's poké ball, feeling a wash of concern and a bubble of hatred for the man. I glower at him, tears in my eyes as he congratulates his stupid ugly green bug.
"Some pokémon battles are tough," he tells me. "Sometimes your pokémon's going to get really hurt. Maybe you should learn that; we all have to at one stage." He recalls his beedrill and crouches down in front of me. He even smiles, despite how he hurt my pokémon. "And as part of that, losing battles means handing over money."
A ball of icy fear builds in my stomach. I fall away from him, feet unsteady and horror on my face. "M-money?" I stutter.
He nods. "Only a little bit of what you've got on you. The sooner you learn this, the sooner you realise just what's at stake in a battle."
I clutch Kiki's poké ball, horrified he's hurt it – her! – so badly and doesn't seem to care about it. And now he wants money too!
"B-but you cheated!"
He sighs and shakes his head. "Type advantages aren't cheating. All's fair in love and war, after all."
I remember Mum telling me something similar.
It makes me realise that I should do exactly what needs to be done.
So I kick the man between the legs hard enough to make him scream. He drops to all fours and I punch him on the nose, smearing my hand bright red with blood. He curses worse than I've ever heard and I do the one thing that makes the most sense;
I run as fast as I can into the city and hope he doesn't follow me.
-O-O-O-
I don't know how long I've been running for when I bump into someone. I fall back, land on my backside and hear myself crying for the first time in a long time.
The person I bumped into turns around, sees me and crouches in front of me. I see her uniform; the bright blue shirt and pants with the familiar hat and I know that she's in the police. It means at least she should be someone I can trust.
She frowns and offers me a hand back up. "You okay there kid?" she asks me.
I shake my head, hiccup and manage to sob out a, "No."
"Want to tell me what the matter is?"
I try to tell her exactly what happened. Instead it comes out as a mess of sobs and a long string of words that makes no sense whatsoever.
She sighs and tries a new tactic. "So what's your name kid? I'm Marsha."
I tell her what my name is. She smiles, pats my head, tells me it's alright and offers to lead me to the pokémon centre.
I nod, take her hand and find myself getting a guided tour around the city as she listens to what I have to say, this time whilst actually making sense.
"Some trainers are like that," she tells me once I'm done. "Sometimes it's a good thing; tell a new trainer exactly what they can expect on a journey. But really, trying to take your winnings after it is a little bit more than extreme."
I nod, still with a death grip on Kiki's poké ball. "Are you a trainer too?" I ask her.
"Somewhat," she says. "All police have to have trained and own at least three pokémon. So I know what it's like."
I nod up at her, amazed to hear she's not only a policewoman but also a trainer. Her eyes are bright blue and long blonde hair sneaks out of her hat. "I just started yesterday," I tell her. "I've battled my big brother before, but he's never wanted money when he beat me."
"Some people are assholes," she says. I giggle and she coughs, hand over her mouth. "Pretend I didn't say that. I can't really go around teaching ten year olds how to swear."
"Kiki won't let me anyway," I say, pouting. "It's my maractus. My dad taught it to needle me whenever I say anything as bad as poo."
She laughs. "Parents, huh? Kiki will be fine once she gets to a pokémon centre. A little bit of healing and then they're generally good as new – they just have a scar or two to show for the battle."
"Okay," I say, considerably relieved.
"Besides," she says, grinning, "I think that boy you beat up will have a few scars to show for that battle too. Maybe not physically, but it's not every day a guy's beaten up by a ten year old girl."
I laugh. "Mum has a few fighters. She got them to teach me and my brother how to fight when we were little. My brother doesn't like it because I can beat him up too."
She smiles. "That's good to hear. At least you won't have to worry about anyone if you can beat them up."
"That's what Mum tells me," I tell her. I look at everything going on in the city, glance back up at her and ask, "Why's your name Marsha?"
She grunts and looks down at me. "I could ask you why your name is what it is."
I smile and shake my head. "I don't mean that. It doesn't sound like a name is all."
She smiles. "That's because it isn't. You see, it's a nasty word to call someone that comes from where I do. In some parts of Unova, it's also a name people use for a woman who likes other women. When I started working with the police, they called me that all the time. Now I have everyone call me it, just so that they know I'm better than they can ever be."
I nod along to her words, then ask, "So does that mean you kiss women then?"
She turns bright red and chokes on a cough. "Among other things, yes."
I pull a face. "That's gross." She looks a little shocked. I shake my head and can't get rid of the grossed-out face I wear. "Kissing people is gross. It sounds all slobbery and nasty. Why would you want to do that?"
She laughs. "Maybe at your age, yes. But once you get a little older, you'll realise just how fun it can be. Just… wait until you're about fifteen, okay?"
I puff out my chest and declare, "Kissing sounds gross. And I'm not fifteen for ages yet. I don't think anything that slobbery-sounding could be fun."
She shrugs and smiles at something I don't understand. "Maybe you'll change your mind when you meet the right person." She points with her free hand at the large three story building in front of us, complete with familiar red roof. "Here's the pokémon centre. Take your pokémon to the person working at the desk and they'll make it good as new, alright? And… try not to go around beating up any more trainers, alright? The next one might be able to fight back."
"I'll still beat them up," I tell her.
She laughs and pulls a little card out of a pocket. "Maybe. Either way, this is my card. It's got my name and my number on it. So if you get into any trouble like this again, or you want to talk to me, you just ring this number, alright?"
I nod and slide it into a pocket. "Okay. Thank you!" I hug her before she leaves and wave goodbye to her before I walk into the pokémon centre. Inside it's huge and I feel a little bubble of nervousness work its way up again. What do I say to the person at the desk? I have to say the right thing, don't I? What if I say the wrong thing and they don't heal Kiki? What if they can't help me? What if-
"Can I help you?"
I yelp and look at the woman behind the desk with wide, frightened-lillipup eyes. She smiles at me and guesses, "Do your pokémon need healing?"
"Yeah," I say with a nod. "And, um, I've got some forms I'm meant to give to you too." I fish around in my bag and produce the papers I need, but they're all creased and look like they've been left under my bed for a month. "Um, sorry."
"It's okay," she says, taking them from me with a smile. "When your pokémon's healed we'll call your name out over the announcement system. I'll send your paperwork off to be looked at tonight and you should have it all back tomorrow morning, complete with a brand new pokédex." She types a few things into her computer and looks back to me. "Will you be staying the night? We can give you a free room since you're waiting for your paperwork to be completed here."
Free room. Room means bed. Bed means comfort.
"Yeah," I say quickly "That's brilliant. Thanks."
"Here you go," the woman says after a moment's typing on her computer. "You're staying on the second floor, room ten. Your paperwork and your pokémon should be ready to collect by around eight a.m. tomorrow morning."
"Okay," I say, clutching my room key like its Kiki's poké ball.
"The dining hall's down there, dinner's being served from now until midnight and breakfast runs from six in the morning. Any questions?"
I shake my head. "No, that's it thanks." I smile as she tells me to have a good day and make my way towards the food. My stomach directs me more than my brain does and lets me know that I need to fill it as soon as I can.
When I see how many people there are in the food hall, my eyes widen almost out of my head. Almost every table is taken, filled with people all chatting away to each other. Even in the line for food I can see a number of people all happily talking to each other. I sigh to myself as I pick up my tray, wishing that someone were here with me.
If anyone, it would have been Craig, seeing as how we both wanted to be trainers once. But now he's gone, I'm on my own and I'm still waiting around for my brother to come visit me.
Plus I beat up the one trainer I might have made friends with.
"Chocolate cake or apple pie?"
I glance up at the woman serving the food and give her a look that should tell her how stupid she is. As if she even needs to ask that question.
"Cake!"
She laughs at my enthusiasm, gives me a bigger piece than the others and winks for me not to let anyone else know. I grin to myself, happy with my huge pile of food and then realise that I'm still left with the problem of where to eat it all.
Everyone on the tables is already with someone. They all already seem to know each other and I feel even more left out. I spot only one table with just one person on it and thank whatever's watching me that at least he's my age.
"Hey," I say nervously as I approach the table. "Can I sit here?"
He looks up at me, his face bored. His hair is brown and messier than mine and he has big brown eyes that look as wide as an owl's beneath his glasses.
"Sure," he says, pointing at a seat opposite. "I'm Sean," he tells me as I sit down.
I tell him my name around a mouthful of cake. I glance around, afraid somehow that Mum will appear and tell me off for eating my dessert before my meal. When she doesn't, I scoff the whole thing and let out a burp.
Sean smirks as he pushes a piece of meat around on his plate. "So what pokémon do you have?"
"A maractus," I tell him. "It hates me. What about you?"
"A pansear," he says with a grimace. "It's annoying. All it does is shriek and throw flaming poo at everything."
I snort orange juice out of my nose. Sean laughs as it dribbles over my chin and splashes on my carrots.
Oh well. Not like I was going to eat them anyway.
"Are you here on your own then?" he asks me. I nod even as I try to get the rest of the drink from my nose. He sighs. "Lucky you. I'm here with my aunt. I don't even want to be a pokémon trainer but my mum said its best for me. And she made my aunt come with me along the way."
"That's weird," I say, scrunching up my nose. I imagine Aunt Sally coming along with me on my journey and shudder at the thought alone. She'd go crazy about every sort of noise and spend the entire time telling me about how well her kids were doing and how much better they were doing than me.
Stupid Aunt Sally.
"Oh great," he says, dropping his head to the table and hiding under his hands. "Here she comes."
I glance around, half expecting an overweight woman in a dress that looks like curtains. Instead a girl about Jerry's age sits down with us. She wears a dull yellow tank top, long bottoms that have little winking machop over them and has her dark brown hair pulled into a ponytail.
"Hey," she says with a smile. "You a friend of Sean's?"
"I, uh, just met him," I say quickly. "I didn't know this seat was taken."
"It's not," she tells me and shoves a whole roast potato in her mouth. "I'm Sean's aunt, by the way. Call me Ali."
It's Sean that lets her know who I am as I continue filling my mouth with food. I find myself confused as he groans and complains about how Ali's embarrassing him. If anything, I think Ali's pretty cool from the little stories she has about her pokémon and the way she bounces around like a hyperactive spoink as she talks.
"I don't even want to be a trainer," Sean confides in me as his aunt chases down the dinner lady carrying leftover cake. "I want to do something else. But Mum won't let me."
"Weird," I tell him. "I didn't want to, but I have to now. Because, um, my parents can't afford the school I want to go to, so I have to get five badges first."
"That really sucks," he tells me. After dinner I spend most of the night in his and Ali's room, watching bad movies and laughing about the silly cartoons on the television.
The entire evening helps me to forget everything that's causing me to be out here, as a trainer.
It's the next morning, when Sean randomly disappears that I remember Craig and start to believe something bad is going on.