I've always struggled with myself.
I've struggled profoundly with the thought of what made myself the way I am. It's an incredibly self-centered train of thought. Usually too painful at times to contemplate considering everything that's happened. Sometimes I wonder if I'll ever be able to live without worrying every single move I put out there to the world, without worrying that I need to present myself a certain way or have to be a certain way to feel like I can be in someone's good graces. It feels so selfish to ask to live as I am. Being around the echelons of other well-to-do kids has made me almost hyper-aware of what the kind of privilege money can bring looks like. My brother was that to a certain extent. Yet, unbelievably, I remember seeing worse.
The whole value taught to me from a young age from most authority figures I know is that it's impossible to be as we are to society. In fact, it's almost untenable to live that maxim... There's the philosophical implication of it, that it's impossible to be as one is because that aspect is always changing in perpetuity. Yet, the darker side to the whole notion was what I was peppered with from a young age. That was the lesson especially taught me. I have to earn respect to be able to come as I am to another person. I don't deserve anyone's respect unless I give them a reason to respect me. Otherwise, I always have to perform, be on the lookout, always be making sure that I've satisfied another person's wants. It's almost a cardinal sin to expect a person to accept me as I am. For my father... it was the ultimate form of entitlement (something I find ironic). Yet, I couldn't fight that notion. To this day, I still wonder why my father even taught that lesson in the first place. Was I just born to be put in my place? Born because there needed to be a black shape? Because I was just an extra nobody ever really wanted?
I can dance with these questions ad nauseaum. I can tell the directions of their threads, but the answers are a void. Yet still, the deep desire in my heart doesn't die. I want to matter. I wanted to be just as I am. I wanted to be free.
Free to make mistakes. Free to pick myself up and try again.
I'm not sure if that possibility was still even here, now. There's so many shifts. So many things in the balance, plans I'm not even sure are plans. I feel like my life is in the balance. Yet, somehow, away from my family, I feel an odd sense of control. If my brother doesn't ever see me again or doesn't ever tell father... I might actually be free. Free with all the strings attached. Free with all the benefits and consequences. But still... that was the hope.
That I'd be set free. Set free to scream. Set free to live out the way I wanted. That I can inhabit my own humanity, flawed and broken as it is.
I couldn't sleep the night Marcus and I returned home from encountering Xavier. The only thing that was certain was that we avoided the subject of discussing what had happened any further. I'd seen the way he stormed into his room, looking almost enraged and needing to be alone. It wasn't until his parents came home that a sense of normality came through. Yet, even so… I felt that hollow feeling of defeat in my heart. I didn't want to speculate on what Marcus may have been feeling inside, but I do know what just transpired. He'd gotten embroiled in my family drama much more intimately than probably he even intended. Him and Xavier seemed to be confined into the sensationalist way upcoming trainers are reported and in some ways… It was more akin to a professional rivalry and a friendship out of bravado than anything. Yet this?... I hated to admit this, but Xavier was right in a certain way, but not in that Marcus was at fault at not understanding. No… this was something he didn't need to see the forefront of for his own mental sanity. This really was something that should've just been Xavier and I, even if I knew that neither of us were in the state to honestly confront anything.
Upon reflection… I had my own thoughts to work through and paranoias I still need to address. In all honesty, I probably would've just screamed bloody murder at my brother and say something I'd regret. Sleeping here now, as best I could anyway, this late into the night was where it hit me that… directing my brother confrontationally would've resulted in more heartbreak. Plus, it would've embroiled Marcus further in this drama. By having me in the fold of his house, hell just by even saving me… I gave him the front row seat to this house of drama. The guilt tore at me, compounded with seeing my brother again…
I knew that sleep was an impossibility. As quietly as I could, I went up to Marcus' bathroom to wash my face. I splashed my face with light water, trying to take in as much of it as possible to see if it provided any slight relief. For my skin, it definitely did. I had to be careful… The hit that Xavier landed on my head was apparently enough to cause swelling. It was enough to worry his parents. Marcus fibbed an explanation, only mentioning Xavier briefly but not wanting to explain the rest of it. I was too much in shock while they were checking up on me to try and provide one. So, even his parents were left with an incomplete story.
That, along with this head pain, only compounded the lack of sleep. As cozy as this all felt, my head refused to cease with its endless thinking. Splashing my face with some water seemed to help only a little, but the sudden onslaught of slight feeling in my face along with bending down meant there was a slight pain at the top of my head. It was still right smack dab in the area where Xavier's fist landed on my face. It took everything not to make a sudden noise when I turned off the faucet and felt the pain suddenly searing. I counted my breaths in threes as a way to make the pain tolerable. I slowly stepped away from the faucet. I turned off the lights. Alright... I just needed to focus on doing the small things and I'll be back to my bed.
The entire time, I was trying to hold in everything. At the very least, Marcus was the kind of person to sleep with some white noise on so he had his room's fan running throughout the night. Even so, a part of me was reminded me somewhat of navigating the estate at night. The slightest movement could alert someone... Be that it might be my parents, Xavier, or Alexis... I never wanted to be caught at night. Those same feelings crept up, butting up against another that sprung into my mind as soon as I laid down on my temporary bed.
To scream...
In my head, it sounded silly. I've grown so used to inhabiting the role of someone who was only there just to simply fill up space that even talking to this day felt bizarre. There were moments where, for as much as Marcus was trying, I knew that I was still trying to move through the motions of what actual social interaction was like. There were moments where I got lost in Marcus and Lyra's dynamic. Moments where I was at a loss of how to respond, where to move a conversation...
Still, social skills were a diversion. I wanted to let something out, anything out. It wasn't even anything profound or some inner voice within me waiting to be let out. I just wanted to... let out noise. A scream. Anything to get whatever it was lingering within me out of my system. I didn't know what form it was going to take or how I was going to do. I wanted to scream.
Yet... whether by instinct. Whether out of deference to not bother anyone. I couldn't.
My mind felt like it clasped shut whenever I wanted. I wanted to scream, but my mouth did not cooperate. Instead, I only find myself sitting with that same silence again. A silence that lingered and defined how I lived my life, choking me into submission and not letting go.
Instead, I was once more met with another sleepless night, staring into the impregnable darkness.
We live and forget. The days after, I focused on trying to live with Marcus and his family as normally as possible. I tried not to let this whole arrangement instill in me a sense of permanence. The Lyra plan was still in my head as my way out, much as I didn't want to let this go. In the days that I did have, not knowing how long this would last, I learned more and more about Marcus. His stories about his journeys through Kanto and Johto were entertaining, even if some of the nuances behind his intense training were lost on me. Sometimes, they were stories of success, especially in his second journey in Johto. It was a case where his renown paid off where one of his traveling companions was one he mentored throughout the journey, up to the point where both were competing together for the league conference as soon as both got their 8 badges. He'd also recount some amusing stories about his typhlosion, who became rather fond of mimicking human behaviors and was insistent on wearing human articles of clothing (of which a ten-gallon hat was one of them). As soon as I saw what a typhlosion looked like, I could see why Marcus kept good-naturedly chuckling whenever he brought up his pokemon.
I didn't have to much offer him in return. But still, I took in this life as much as I could, developing a steady rhythm of helping out his family either through cleaning work or sometimes even cooking simple breakfasts. It wasn't much, and I did get a few gentle points on the finer aspects of cooking from Marcus' father… But still, it represented more of a hopeful direction. For once, the smaller things in life I could assume were there. They were aspects I could enjoy, always there when they needed to be, without fearing a sudden disappearance.
Of course, life has to go on. With that, all of the plans that have been laid since earlier. My stay in Marcus' apartment must've been nearing at least the five-day mark at this rate. The way I knew it ended was when Marcus set me aside for a conversation after lunch.
"Claude, Lyra's ready to leave. We're gonna get ready in an hour or two."
It's time to say goodbye again.
There wasn't much for me to pack. Marcus gave me one of his spare bags and hell, even gave me some of his old clothes that were roughly my size. Whatever this bag was, it was a hell of a lot sturdier and stronger than the old backpack I tried to use when I first left Pallet.
"That was the bag I used for Kanto. It's a little bit worn. If I had time, I would've asked Dad to get you a new one. It's not the best habit of mine in terms of money, but I do try to have new bags for every region in case something happens."
"Thank you so much…"
I clutched the bag's handles tighter as Marcus had called up Lyra. This… was largely it. Unless something dramatic happens that forces Marcus to return me back here, this would be the last time I'd be sleeping in this apartment. I tried to distract myself by folding the little part of my room that I've been using the entire time. I rolled up the sleeping bag, tried to clean up the food crumbs from all the snacking I've been doing here since 'moving' here, and all in all… Physically wrapped up my time here. I remember this kind of feeling creeping up. This sort of reminded me of the emotions that surrounded Alexis' leaving for her journey that felt like so long ago now… It was yet another transition, another change in the cycle.
I found relief in the fact that things were moving forward. Maybe at some point, after enough temporary homes, I could find a place to settle down and live out the next few years… I'm not sure what as, and it's probably a flight of fancy since there wasn't a concrete, step-by-step plan. Yet… there was something.
We said our farewells to his parents. Marcus' Mom and Dad both shook my hand while he exchanged a tight hug with them. His father said something that put me somewhat at ease. It still does as Marcus and I were now walking into the Saffron daylight.
"Remember that no matter what, you will always have a reason to live. You're always welcome here, anytime. A friend of my son's is a friend of mine."
I clutched my bag closer as Marcus led himself and I towards the exit to the city, towards the route that led to Celadon. Route 7 I remember it being called…
"It's gonna be a short trek to the city. It won't be that long, I promise. Lyra's gonna meet us at the gate and we'll walk together. I don't think we need to do something like flying."
I nodded. As much as I fear change, this was also… exciting? I couldn't quite find the specific words for it, or even the sensation that my body felt as we approached the exit. Maybe it's the relative safety of being able to have two people with me or the fact that this was a much more gentle change. I felt… hope. That was the word I wanted to use. It was a fairly broken hope at this rate, but there was something about that hope which began to feel more visceral and genuine, especially with Marcus' dad's words still lingering in my mind. I was close to feeling genuinely free… This close in beginning the process of settling down.
In settling down roots. If there is a place to stay… then I'll decide what I could possibly do after.
As we walked, I saw a pidgey with a broken wing fly by. Well… broken was an assumption. There were usually flocks of pidgey that flew around the city, especially at this time of day. I noticed one that was lagging behind its flock, unable to gain altitude. Yet still, that pidgey kept flying on, maintaining air with an immense amount of effort. Soon, that pidgey would disappear from my sight.
Marcus and I reached the entrance to route 7 where Lyra was waiting. She too had her own backpack at the ready.
"Glad to see you 2. You all ready?"
"We are. You know where to go?"
"Yep. All three of us to the pokemon center in Celadon."
After that brief exchange, we set out from the city and into the brief patch of wilderness between Saffron and Celadon. It was strange being back in fairly forested and wild areas again. The whole set up of the route between these two cities reminded of the somewhat open expanse between Pallet and Viridian. It seemed simple enough… Just a 30-minute walk through from this route and soon, we'd find ourselves in Celadon.
As we walked, I couldn't shake off a feeling that there might be something terrible waiting for us… Or that something might pop up from the grass and suddenly attack us. That was silly… Yet still, I felt weirdly isolated when I was walking with Marcus and Lyra. I hadn't a clue what they were talking about, their voices melding into my conscious as I felt the wind course through my face. The pain that was at the top of my head ached a little. I was reminded of that when there was a slight burst of wind towards our direction, one that caused to grip my head. It wasn't anything strong that caused me to stop at my tracks. Either way, it didn't catch the attention of either Marcus or Lyra. I sighed and gripped at my bag further.
"Claude, you alright?"
I turned my head around to find Marcus looking at me, concern etched in his face.
"Sorry about that… You were zoned out and quiet."
"I'm alright…" I said.
The walk was uneventful. For that, I was glad. I saw a skyline looming larger as Lyra told us that we're only about 10 minutes away from Celadon City. The urban sprawl of it all was astounding… The gate to Celadon wasn't nearly tall enough to cover the even taller skyscrapers (in comparison to Saffron) and more… lavish appearance of the city. I've heard of it being called the City of Rainbow Dreams, but the title only paled to how it looked like before my very eyes. It was a far-cry from Pallet Town, even living in an estate and all. Knowing what my father's line of work was in Kantonian finance, this was kind of city he longed and dreamed for. The buildings had an odd, synthetic glimmer against the sun. It was a stark contrast from the yellow on Saffron's construction or even the wilderness that I was still more used to than the urban jungle. Celadon was clean, it was planned. In many ways, the buildings looked like ghosts against the sunlight. They were translucent, looking like ghostly see-through mirrors.
By the small crowd that surrounded us as we entered the stream of people, trainers, workers, and residents, walking to and fro the city, it was packed. I stuck close to Marcus once we entered the crowd and the city proper. Civilization's arms embraced us once more. The sounds of the wilderness were silenced by the steady chaos of people walking by us. Just like that, the wind was muffled by constant chatter, the sounds of pokemon both wild and caught walking alongside their companions, and sometimes cars.
It got somewhat loud to the point where Lyra had so raise her voice across the chatter when we were finally on the city proper.
"Alright! Pokemon center first so we can get you registered for Sinnoh, Mark. You talked with Professor Rowan?"
"Heh. I did, I did. Not to worry."
Navigating felt like even more of a challenge here than in Saffron. At least there, the buildings were a good way to keep track of which block you were on, and things seemed a touch more planned out than here. It felt almost too easy to get lost in Celadon, from the high-rises to the even the prominent game corner at the heart of the city. Thankfully, the pokemon center wasn't too far from the entrance to the city at all... It was literally right there just a few buildings in.
As soon as we walked in, Lyra quickly mentioned something she needed to take care of with Nurse Joy. I assumed she needed to heal the pokemon she had with her, so I had a quiet moment with Marcus in the meantime. Thankfully, the pokemon center didn't seem too busy, so we didn't look too awkward just standing around waiting for Lyra to finish. I turned to him, a question burning in my mind about to be let out.
"Marcus... Do you... What's gonna happen?..."
I saw him heave a sigh. Whatever it was he had to say... I just had to brace myself for it.
"I had to talk to my Dad about it... He's told me to get you set up in one of the orphanages here in Celadon. We found one that I knew a couple of old friends at and that my Dad knew. He's said they're good people and could help take you in. It's at the other side of the city, so it'll be a bit of a walk. We'll see Lyra off and I'll take you there. If that doesn't work, Lyra's told me of another one that's down south."
I had no idea what to do with the information except to hope for the best. I took a deep breath, looked around, and reached a hand towards Marcus. I didn't nod, even say a thanks, or do anything I thought I'd normally do. The impulse in me just... I saw him look at me in confusion. With my hands shaking, my head still hurting, and my thoughts scrambled into an unreadable state. I pulled Marcus into a sudden hug.
My breath hitched. I was hysterical yet quiet. I had enough in me to prevent myself from suddenly sobbing in public. I knew in my heart why I did such a sudden action, but I didn't dare voice the reason even into my thoughts. It just... felt instinctually right. Perhaps I was acting too dramatic, being rash with my emotions and panicking. Yet, I couldn't shake the feeling that this may be one of the last few times I ever see Marcus. This was the only way I knew how to thank him without saying it out loud. This was the way I could express my gratitude without trying to sputter it out tactlessly. This was the last chance I had to hold onto an anchor before I knew that the anchor would drift away. That's an odd metaphor... He was more than that. He had his own life to return to. I needed to live out mine on my own, somehow.
I felt myself get released and having to quickly reestablish some sort of game face when Lyra returned.
"Come on, let's get you registered for Sinnoh. I have to do it for Kanto too."
Alone... I shook my head to clear my thoughts and stepped outside to breathe in the air. I looked up to the skies again to see another flock of pidgey and some spearow fly about. I had to admit, getting adjusted to this city pace just needed some time. After some orientation, it really wasn't that all different from Saffron. I should've figured, but ah, the whole experience of seeing new cities and new places. My father may have been fond of the big sky rises and the urban jungles, but it was fairly rare that he'd ever bring us here. I could only assume that this city was his domain. His home away from home, when he needed some noise versus the small town quietude of Pallet Town. I liked the white noise of urban bustle, however. I found myself beginning to linger close to the entrance of the pokemon center and do some casual people watching. To say that the population was a mixture would be to undersell just how diverse it was. In the entrance alone, I saw someone in formal wear about to make the on-foot rush to Saffron. Whatever it was, it was urgent enough that she didn't even bother to take the bus. Behind her was a group of older trainers, in tow some fairly small pokemon I didn't recognize.
They all melded and blended together like those time-lapse videos. I felt myself about to nearly slump over until I saw something familiar in the corner of my eye near the entrance of the city...
Luck is such a damned thing sometimes.
In the corner of my eye, I saw Mr. Scott and... Trouble. It was Trouble. They were walking into this city. I was right in their eyesight. I felt everything in my body tense and my vision suddenly gain clarity. I took a deep breath to calm myself and watched them from the corner of my eye. I hoped that neither wouldn't notice... I made a move to go back to the pokemon center, but Mr. Scott's eyes caught mine. In that split second, I decided to speedwalk in. Hoping, praying to someone that they wouldn't follow me in.
The fear and the guilt... Oh, Trouble, I'm so sorry...
I walked in just as soon as Marcus and Lyra were finished with what they needed to do. I nearly ran into Marcus, panicked and hysterical once more.
"Claude, Claude I need you to calm down. What's wrong?" Marcus asked me.
"Marcus... It's Mr. Scott... He's here. He found me... I don't know how... I was outside... I saw him..."
"Claude. Breathe. Just breathe."
It was the only thing I could do. I held onto my bag's clutches again and looked back and forth from the door to Marcus. He was out there... Mr. Scott was out there.
"We need to be discrete-"
"Mark, what's going on?" Lyra asked.
"Lyra, it's the Mr. Scott guy I told you about. I don't have time to explain fully but Claude and him saw each other. We need to get out of here, quickly."
There was a small relief that I wasn't on my own. I stuck close to Marcus for dear life. Knowing these big cities, there was a risk of getting separated from them. I couldn't... not when he... I took a deep breath as Marcus led us all outside. Just look normal... Don't make a scene. Don't look scared. I forced that through my mind as we walked towards the western exit of the city. I had my head down. I glanced at Marcus and Lyra when we were at a stop, needing to wait for cars to drive over the intersection. Marcus... I could see the fear in his eyes and the determination to get out. He was tapping his foot impatiently, glancing towards me for a few moments before looking onwards. Lyra... what I would give to be in her position. I couldn't read her expression, but I do know just like Marcus with Xavier and I a few days ago, she was a guest to this drama. If there's one thing I know about being embroiled in the dramatic circumstances in another person's live, it is sometimes the last thing a person needs to go through. All of what goes in my head is enough to drive me sick, no less the situation I let myself create by running away from home. I wouldn't wish for any other person to need to intimately witness or go through it...
As soon as we crossed the intersection, I felt my body in its tracks as soon as I heard a voice roar through the urban sprawl. It was my name, shouted by Mr. Scott.
He'd found us... Of course...
"Mark, I'm getting out of-"
I felt myself pushed forward, my body screaming in pain as I felt something reach for my arm. I didn't have the strength to fight back. My vision was blurry, but I knew enough to catch that it was Mr. Scott grabbing my body. I felt myself drop to the ground, helpless as I heard Marcus' grunts trying to fight the man away.
"Claude! Lyra! Run!"
I looked up to find Lyra no longer there. My head pulsed, but still I couldn't scream in pain. I stumbled away from the scene as fast as I could. My legs finally cooperated. They ran, but this wasn't the feeling of freedom anymore. I ran because I needed to save myself. I ran through the needles of pain burrowing in my leg. I ran through the ever-increasing blood red hue coursing through my vision. My head was pounding, but the farther I was, the faster I felt I was running. It was the best thing I could do... The only thing I can apparently do in this world.
Run. Run away. Run away from the cycle of it all. Run away from death and all his friends. Run away back to square one.
I didn't know what direction I even ran towards. It wasn't until I fell to my knees that my vision blurred. All I knew was that I turned whenever there was an intersection. I was shaking and shaken. Running away drained the adrenaline, but I still felt the hairs in the back of my head rise up. I looked behind to me find only a sparse crowd. Wherever I was... This felt less populated.
I found myself in a quarter filled with mid-rise buildings and open space. It was fitting that even here, the buildings looked like ghosts ready to fade into the sky. What was I seeing even real? There were certain points where I felt I was seeing things that shouldn't be there... At times, I thought I even saw my sister. I reached out to someone inadvertently, only to scare them away realizing I must look odd. How hasn't an officer Jenny's attention been caught yet?... Just as I say that, an officer Jenny on her motorcycle whizzed by me, drifting to the left when she reached the intersection. That spurred me on to walk faster.
I needed to get out of here...
Marcus, I'm so sorry... I'm so sorry for everything. You got embroiled in the drama between my brother and I, and now this...
I tried to put some distance, but my movements were slow. My heart was heavy again. It grew heavier when I turned around. Whatever running I did didn't even work... There was Trouble. Right there, in the flesh. I reached out to him to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. His expression was so stone-cold... He didn't even respond or flinch. Yet, as soon as I shook my head, he wasn't there anymore... He was simply an inanimate object, a fire hose... Why was I touching a fire house?... What's wrong with me?...
"Over there!" I heard someone shout...
No... Mr. Scott... No... It couldn't be...
I ran again.
This time, I was not nearly as fast enough as I should've been.
The cycle ensured that I returned to its reaches.
The mind does strange things when you're knocked out. I become divorced from all the physical pain and feel myself in this odd, dreamlike state... The existential crises are there, but they don't cause me to stop at my tracks or leave me staring into the ceiling. Instead, it's easier to work through them from here. As in some sense, it's my own abstract self thinking through all of the abstracted versions of the problems that my mind likes to carousel around.
In this abstract world of mine, however. I was flying. I was like the pidgey I remember seeing when I walked with Marcus and Lyra towards Celadon. There was a freedom to this kind of fake flying that reminded me of running free like I did from Pallet Town to Viridian. I wasn't sure where I was or what I was flying through. Instead, I saw only a world of shapes that constantly shifted. I'll be honest, those shapes contorted into geographical impossibilities. They felt almost like those mythical wormholes that I wouldn't be surprised if our world's legendary pokemon could somehow manifest either through their raw power or through an attack. I kept flying, trying to flap my imaginary wings. Yet, the more I flew, the more I began to realized that I was instead descending towards an unending, surreal pit. The folds were growing downwards.
There were moments where I gained strength, enough to fight the force of gravity from below. Sometimes, I was disrupted by a turbulent knocking. My wings began to break, the very bones and joints failing before my very eyes. At some point, I was blind in one eye. I flew and flew until I no longer could. At some point, I heard the sounds of screaming. A high-pitched wail that coursed through my sensitive ears that led me to begin free-falling. The sound amplified to a point where my ears could hear no more. They heard only the sounds of silence.
I felt the noise wracking my body. That high-pitched wail was me. I screamed until I could no longer here. I screamed until all feeling went away.
But that didn't stop the thoughts that still swirled in my head. If anything, they intensified as I fell further into this abstract void. It finally hit me that... well, unless I was somehow lucky enough to let this be my afterlife, everything I've known was well and truly over. Seeing Trouble again just intensified the guilt of having up and left him all alone with Mr. Scott. Maybe that's why he appeared to me, a fake version of him, as so unemotional... As if the real him would be happy to see me considering I just unceremoniously left him under Mr. Scott's 'care.' I had no doubt that Mr. Scott probably ensured that anyone who left Hope House would have a negative opinion that forcefully left. Or in other words, anyone that ran away.
I really am a natural coward...
Then, there was Marcus. Who I didn't even help, who only did nothing but to help me through and fight my battles for me. I think it's here that I could finally think through what he meant to be me in such a short time. If I'm to be honest to myself, I was desperate for any kind of friend or companionship that wasn't just my living with my sister. I've always had acquaintances to talk during my school years, but... I was much too young then. Plus, as a young kid, I always had a better ability to repress anything that seemed right. Any emotion that provoked my stability or need to stay neutral, I simply could 'forget.' Not so now, when I realized that all of that repression that I did when I was so young didn't erase of it. Instead, they compounded into these never-ending psychodramas that leaves me broken in its wake. I ran away from them too by refusing to acknowledge that pain's existence.
With Marcus... I was beginning to explore the first outlet of releasing the pain. That's a terrible way of putting it, but he was my living emotional anchor in this world for those few days we had together. He was a friend I desired to shared all of these things hidden within me. All of these secrets that weren't really ever secrets in the traditional sense of the word. It was the only way I knew how to thank him for saving my life. He gave me the whole impetus to take things step by step. To actually begin confronting all of the memories I'm only just now able to remember with this odd clarity. It was a selfish exchange, that much I knew. I wish I did more to help him, but how was I able to?... He always seemed so willing to share his journeys and take me in to his own home. Yet... it was here, in my own mind ironically enough, that it truly sank in me that I didn't really give back anything in return. I took and took and took.
Now, with the possibility of having lost him again... This time being ripped away from him due to my own panic. Well, it was more me running away out of pure instinct. I could only hope that he was okay, still out there somewhere. If I were him, I'd just forget this ever happened. Go to Sinnoh, start and finish the journey there, and the whole works. I just wish I could reverse time and tell him what I'm actually feeling now. That, in the process of being saved, as it turned out... He's affected my life profoundly in ways I was never able to say outside. It wasn't ever about the irony of finding my brother's rival, or the irony of him being embroiled in our dramas. In the end... he was a friend. A friend I wanted. A friend that I could've had for a lifetime.
Yet, just like every spark it fades so quickly. After a brilliant flash of light, it fades into a neverending void. All I have is just a faint yet fond memory.
Throughout all this thought, I kept falling into this pit. The folds eventually disappeared into nothingness. Somehow, the rate at which I was falling became faster and faster. Whatever 'flight' I was on with my imaginary wings stalled and ended. I'd lost that ability now. Instead, I was free-falling, trying but failing to protect myself. I wasn't even sure if bracing would be useful, considering I couldn't even see my abstract self. Sound would return, but only for a faint sound of howling wind.
Soon, I felt the pain of hitting the ground. Every single inch of my body burned with pain. It hurt to move. It hurt to think. It hurt to breathe.
In that instant, my body and mind felt like it shattered into a million pieces.
In trying to break away from the cycle, I was recycled into it once more. I knew then, even through all the pain, that things had returned back to zero.
I fell into the hands of the person I'd associate with death. The cycle now sidestepped even the dramas in my mind. The very dramas that gave birth to my raison d'etre to run away. Now, it was back to survival. I didn't know where I was, where I'd be, or who I'd be with. I had my hopes, but they were just that.
I was on my own again.