National Suicide Hotline Number: 1-800-784-2433. Call if you ever need help
IV : Night Waltz
"Why, why would somebody wipe their own shit on a wall?" – Sweet Dee
There is something about the unknown. The unknown can be viewed one of two ways. As something to be afraid of, as something that can hurt us, or kill us. Most people take this view, and I think I understand why. People know the unknown can be something exciting, but people are afraid of getting hurt. These are people who live content, but unexciting lives.
I view the unknown the other way. There is a beauty in not knowing, leaving the mystery in life. I view the unknown as something mysterious, something enticing, something sexy. Their was danger in the unknown, and it was danger that made my blood pump. Since I loved the unknown, I also loved the night.
The night had always been magical, when I was human. I love staring up at the stars, shining lights against a black backdrop. The moon, giant, pale, mysterious. The night was inviting to me, because it shrouded me in darkness, it hid me from the world. The irony is that, when I killed my self, I was complaining about not being seen.
The night actually gave me my favorite type of pokemon, dark type. Dark type had always been an anomaly, even to scientists. When Umbreon was discovered, they couldn't figure out what the fuck to classify it as. Dark type are cool, due to how mysterious they are, and valuable due to the high accuracy of their moves, and their immunity to psychic type. Trust me when I say this, every one carries a psychic type.
Now, night had been special to me when I was human. What I didn't know was, almost all the big events of my new life would happen at night. Tonight, I would meat one human and one pokemon, who would change my life.
I still remember the night perfectly. The moon and stars were completely blocked out. The only lights came from street lamps, that me and Michael passed under, as we jogged through the town. When we entered Route 101, the lights vanished.
Now, what always sticks out to me about night, isn't the things you see, it's the sounds you hear. That night, I heard water dripping off of tree branches, from rain we had earlier in the day, after my funeral. I could hear Poochyena, or Zigzagoon stir and step on twigs, breaking them. Most of all though, I could hear Michael's heart race, through the back pack I was curled up in. He had stopped running, once we made sure no one was following us, but his heart was still racing.
Each night could be identified through its sounds. These random sounds were a melody, the night music. Night music is what I would listen to, to get me to sleep when I was young, after crying for hours because of the drunken Duncans. Night music is beautiful, music created with out rhythm or purpose.
"I wonder what their reaction will be" Michael said, as we trudged down 101. "When they discover my room empty, and my stuff missing. They'll probably send Robin after me, since she'll be leaving next week. My parents never liked Angela, but they liked Robin"
"How could they like her?" I murmured from Michael's back pack, "Her full name is Robin Dobin, no middle name"
"I mean, yeah, she's good looking" Michael grinned. "She has a body you want to eat off of"
"And a face you want to punch"
"But she has no personality. Robin has all the depth of a puddle of water. I mean, I never thought she would become a trainer. It's illogical if you think about it. Her interests I can count on one hand. Shopping" Michael said, holding up one finger, "Guy's, and thinking she's perfect."
My views on Robin were the same as my views on a zit. Grab it, squeeze it, and don't let go until it oozes pus. Robin had been a fungus when we were young. She was one of those annoying kids who you couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard you tried. Robin had tried to be friends with me, in spite of the fact I would rather be the guest of honor at a dinner run by cannibals then friends with her.
Then Robin turned 14. Up till this point, every one had made fun of the straw haired, stick figure girl. Then, she developed breasts, got treatments on her hair, and became adorable. While this did nothing for the girls who made fun of her, the guys started looking at her with a different head. Perverts. Yeah, I've met the enemy, and she is a bimbo.
Figuring I wouldn't be able to sleep, I pulled my self up onto Michael's left shoulder. He turned, noticing me, and stroked the fur on top of my head.
"I'm sorry Angel, did I wake you?"
"Vee"
"Sorry" Michael sighed. "I wish you could understand me. I'm sorry I woke you, but I need some one to talk to, who can't talk back. Really, I need some one to unload on"
"Michael, I wish you could understand me" I said. "When I was human, I thought you were a weenie, and a coward, who never did anything exciting. In the week since my suicide, you've flicked off the drunken Duncans twice, kissed my dead lips to disgust every one at the funeral, and ran away from home" I smirked. "Their may be hope for you yet" Michael smiled, even though he had no idea what I said, he knew it was happy. He checked his watch, two a.m.
As Michael did, the two of us emerged from the woods, and on the edge of Oldale town. Most of the houses and buildings were dark, the only light coming from the lamps lining the streets. The two of us walked through the quiet sound, no night music to be found here, until we came to a one story house with a detached garage.
The house was grimy, with something growing on the, once, white wash, walls. The yard was over run with weeds, and filled with beer cans and God knows what else. A rusted car sat on blocks, in front of the closed garage. This was the house of Michael's cousin, Louis. I had wondered what kind of person Louis was, and I think I knew.
Michael stepped through the yard, every time he stepped on grass you could hear the sound of broken glass. We made our was to a wooden front door, with red paint, peeling in long strips. He knocked on the door twice.
The door opened, to reveal a tall man, with long, greasy black hair, pulled back in a pony tail. In one hand he held a beer, in the other he held a roach clip. Oh boy.
"Michael?" The stoner asked.
"Louis, we need help"
"Sure, sure dude, come on in" Now, a little information on Louis.
As you might have guessed, Louis was a stoner. Louis was not a bad person, actually he was kind of fun, the way a Poochyena was fun. He lived a charmed life of sorts. Despite being a stoner, and working as an ice cream man, Louis never seemed to be out of money. Michael's family suspected that his money came from his father, Joseph "Buzzsaw" Adalian. Joseph, well, lets just say he lived in Lillycove and did a lot of work down by the docks.
Louis was Michael's cousin, through very obscure relations. Michael's parents hated Louis. Michael thought he was a hoot, but more importantly, despite being a stoner, Louis was some one you could turn to when you were in trouble. He wasn't a reliable stoner, none were, but he would help Michael. Now, Michael had run away from home, with no money and only minimal supplies, and we needed help.
Louis led us through his house, into his living room. I had climbed all the way onto Michael's left shoulder having dug my claws into his skin. Michael didn't complain though, as we sat down on a grungy couch in the room. The living room had orange shag carpeting, that let up a cloud of dust when ever you walked on it, and walls coated in what I prayed was snot, instead of something else beginning with an s.
Louise sat down beside us, and propped his feet up on a coffee table covered with beer bottles, and cigarette burns. He took a drag from the toke, and then smiled.
"Dude, like I said, we're in trouble" Louis nodded, looked at Michael then at me. A terrified look came over his face, as he pointed to me (who was now sitting in Michael's lap), and Michael.
"Shit man, you're not bangin' that, are you?" Michael and my jaws dropped.
"What?! No, of course not, that's sick"
"Good, with your piece man, you could rip that in two"
"She" Michael said, "Angel is a she" I felt oddly touched by him saying this. He already cared so much about me as a pokemon, that the idea of someone calling me an it, insulted him. I would have felt more touched, if I hadn't been sitting in a house that would one day be called the scene of the crime.
"I'm sorry dude, I mean she" Louise looked at me, and smiled, as he took a final drag, "So she must be your starter?" Before Michael, or I could protest, Louis picked me up. "Angel, you look like a killer"
"Your breath smells like you ate a shit sandwich" I said, nose twitching as he spoke.
"She'll be strong, you've got good taste" Louis said, setting me back down. "Now, you said you needed help?"
"I ran away from home"
"Dude, awesome" Louis cried, "High five"
"No, no high five. I had to move quickly, so all I got was a book from a friend, my pokedex, three potions, an antidote, and a map of Hoenn"
"Not a pokenav?"
"Pokenav's come with tracking chips, I don't want my parents finding me. They wanted to put me in therapy, and put Angel in breeding center"
"Alright, why would they want to put you in therapy?" Louis asked. "Come on dude, you can tell me" Michael nodded, then sniffled.
"Remember that girl I told you about one time, Angela Duncan?"
"Chubby girl you had a crush on, mouth that would make a twenty year navel veteran proud?"
"Chubby? Navel veteran? Fuck you up your stupid ass" I yelled.
"Angel's cute" Louis said, "It almost sounds like she knows what we're saying"
"Angela killed her self" Michael said. "I decided, I just couldn't be there any more, so near to where she died, living next door. I know, that if I'm ever going to get over her death, and move on, I need to do this journey"
As soon as Michael said those things, my heart dropped. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised, at the end of the day, I'm still dead. But that doesn't mean it didn't hurt, and it also didn't mean I wasn't going to try and show Michael who I was.
I didn't want to listen to any more, so I decided to explore the grungy house. I climbed off of Michael's lap, he barely noticed, and walked out of the living room. I didn't like this place, and at the time I didn't like Louis. What I didn't know was Louis was going to play a huge part in the story unfolding before my eyes, just not as much as the next person I would meet tonight.
"Alright, what is their of interest in this shit hole?" I murmured, to awake to get to sleep. I came to an unlatched white door, and pushed it open by getting up on my hind legs (a trick in its own right). The door popped open, to reveal the most disgusting bathroom ever. I'm not going to describe how vile this room was, use your imagination. Still, I was curious, so I took one step forward.
"Hey" A new, female voice, called from behind, "What the hell are you doing here?"