Patrick camped in the woods. The woods were a dangerous place. Pokémon with Trainers may seem cute to people without Pokémon, but wild Pokémon were vicious and undomesticated—rogues without anyone to take care of than a pack. Wild Pokémon would attack a Trainer if they got close to them which is why you needed Pokémon of your own to protect you.

Being a homeless boy wasn't an easy task. Patrick was a person without a regular dwelling. People think that a person was homeless because they can't keep a steady job, and sure that sometimes may be the case, but the fact is the homeless were working at the time they lose their house. It was a downward strike in their income. Other homeless people suffer from a bipolar disorder. And their is an equal number of white and African American people who're homeless; there's only a small amount of people from different communities. Patrick learned a few things about being homeless. First was to wait around a garbage can for people throw their food away. Eating from the trash was disgusting and could cause a slow death from germs. He didn't build fires because he was afraid the wind would blow the flakes out and burn the forest. When Patrick slept it was in a cave with Pokémon he befriended. Or right now where Lily and Mienfoo were sleeping on his lap. Dehydration was an issue. Living in the woods he didn't have a faucet he could magically turn on, and some of the water he drank could be filled with toxins a poison type Pokémon used as its swimming hole. Patrick could only go to places like malls where they had bathrooms and faucets to drink from. They also had free soap and paper towels. Food was even more difficult than water. It wasn't as easy to find. Pokémon wasn't a cannibal, but he would eat anything. Patrick's hunger was insatiable. He couldn't eat berries or mushrooms because they were poisonous. It was hard to tell if there was any that wasn't poisonous.

Patrick was in a happy place away from the woods and on the auditorium of his choir. Patrick remembered how his parents would be in the front row watching Patrick perform. Patrick played piano, harp, and any brass instrument he touched he could play with ingenuity and creativity.

I felt this cataclysm in me

Anger – the pain burning inside me

Worry– a forlorn affection

Burning through my heart

Getting through my egoism

Growing from my vexation

…I had a dream…

My dream—I would see the light of day

My goal—I would live to be free

…all my life…

He took my childhood from me

He deceived me!

Lied to me!

Killed me!

…and now I see me…

Regret—the fuel of my soul

Fear-to hide my soul

Leeking through my eyes

My mind lights up

And I feel ashamed

His dream was something no one could fathom. It was a dream about an earlier part of his life, but his song was derived towards the future. Patrick saw UV shine on the spot where his parents were sitting. Patrick looked at his parents...a nuance of two skeletons. Patrick was startled at the discovery his parents were dead...in his dream...the entire auditorium was lit by UV light. Patrick saw rows and rows of people; a skeleton in every seat. Their skin was gone but a smile was visible on their faces.

Patrick was back in the cold darkness of the forest. He saw a fire burning which was odd because Patrick never started a fire. Patrick wondered who could have started it. The first thing Patrick noticed in his wary eyes were green hair so long it covered his midriff. Patrick thought it was a girl at first because of the feminine face, but he was wearing a baseball cape with the letter P on it. The boy was only three or four years older than Patrick. He wore a white tunic and green pants. The boy was holding something rectangular in his hands. That's when Patrick saw what it was.

" Hey. That's my PokéGuide!"

The boy didn't listen to Patrick. The boy only skimmed through the pages. Patrick didn't know what he felt when he was reading that book; the only sign Patrick saw was when the boy dripped tears down his right eye. The boy grasped the handle of the PokéGuide and showed it to Patrick. The picture in the PokéGuide was a picture of Purrloin.

" So this is how they're exploiting Pokémon now?"

" What? What do you mean exploiting? Who's exploiting Pokémon?"

" Don't they know they can't just put this down in a book and say it's theirs? They can't even hear the voices of Pokémon and they think they culminate."

" That's not my PokéGuide. A very nice lady helped me get it. Please give it back."

" Huh?" The green-haired boy was so caught up in the PokéGuide he didn't know he was really just stealing from a poor boy. The boy handed the PokéGuide back to Patrick and nodded his head. " I'm sorry. My name is N."

" N? What's that short for? Ned? Nathan? Nanda?"

" My name is just N. I know, it's hard to understand. My father had a strange sense of humor. You...I can hear the voices of your Pokémon. They say you have benevolence and a fiery spirit."

" Can he really understand what Pokémon are saying? Is this some kind of pseudoscience?"

" I told you my name. Will you give me the courtesy of giving me your name?"

" Uh, yes. My name is Patrick. Patrick Strong."

" Why is your last name Strong?"

" Because I'm as strong as a Tauros. I fucking killed a biker with just one punch."