I was not oblivious to my straining relationship with my parents. Ever since I broke Father's precious wristwatch, I felt the tip of an unseen wall forming between us.
So imagine my shock when Father asked me to accompany him to his business meeting! Frankly, I was overjoyed. When he gave me a script of how to act and speak, I realized that he only wanted to use me as his selling point. No matter. We were family, and family helped each other.
Father would meet his prospective business partner in Eterna City, located quite a ways from Sunyshore. Since I never left the city, I obsessively fantasized about the outside world. How different was Sinnoh beyond Mt. Coronet? Did it snow over there? What did snow look like?
When we arrived at Eterna City, I thought we had traveled back in time. Unlike in Sunyshore, the atmosphere here smelled well-lived in, a musty antiquity of days bygone. Never have I felt so small and excited.
The initial meeting went well. Father's prospective client also had a son around my age, hence his interest in me. I followed Father's script to the fine print: standing up straight, making eye contact, speaking only when spoken to. I professed my talent for academics, my penchant for violin, and my passion for progress. When asked about my dreams, I responded on following Father's footsteps to head his company once I graduated college.
The other party appeared quite satisfied at my scripted responses. Complimented Father for rearing the perfect son. And Father replied with a pat on my head and the words: "That's my boy."
Father was proud of me! He actually acknowledged me! If pursuing perfection was the key to impressing him, then by all means I would chase that ideal to the grave.
After that, I wasn't needed anymore. The contract had been secured, and Father was to spend the next days negotiating. I wasn't allowed to disturb his work, so I was ultimately left to my own devices.
Therefore, I took it upon myself to explore Eterna City. I appreciated the fresh start, conversing with people who never knew me, who wouldn't judge me for my defects. The older children let me play with their Pokemon; the elderly townsfolk gave me sweets when I stopped by.
On top of the wonderful people, Eterna City presented a surprising trove of lore. For example, an intriguing statue sat in the heart of the city, apparently having existed since the dawn of Sinnoh, constructed to commemorate the birth of a Pokemon whose heartbeat initiated the flow of time. So fascinating! Surely there must be a kernel of truth within that myth! Before I died, I wished to see that fabled Pokemon in person.
Outside of Eterna's statue was the equally enigmatic Eterna Forest. Rumors clung to that place like fog, ranging from sounds that originated from nowhere to trees that bled red when attacked. On top of the gossip, the wild Pokemon residing there were unusually aggressive. Those without Pokemon were highly discouraged from entering.
Of course, warnings were merely that: suggestions. What did the threat of territorial Pokemon have against my near drownings and dreary hospital experience? If anything, I could simply run away like I did to all my problems. This might be my last chance to visit Eterna City, so I have to capitalize on this moment.
The morning before our scheduled flight back to Sunyshore, I told Father about my plans. He never took his eyes off his work, but he did give me permission in the form of a nod. Armed with no Pokemon and no funds for Antidotes, I bravely marched into Eterna Forest.
It was a beautiful place. Tranquil. Untouched. The ground was steeped in warm shadows blended with honeyed sunlight that peeked through the canopy above. Isolated from the outside world, this sleepy forest truly lived up to its name as The Place Where Time Stood Still.
Since I had absolutely no experience navigating forests, I got lost almost immediately. My budding doubt blossomed into anxiety when I realized that it was indeed getting darker. I've circled around the same trees for the last… hour? Couple of hours? My perception of time was stunted by the elongating shadows that resembled monsters of the night.
What if my tardiness caused Father to miss his flight? Surely he wouldn't leave me… right? Because we're family… and family would never abandon each other.
My erratic strides turned to hurried sprinting, and while I rounded a darkened corner, something furry and sticky rubbed against my exposed ankle. I lost my footing and tumbled down into a nest of things—squishy, squirming, angry things with eight writhing legs.
I must've screamed so loudly that it angered the other giant spiders, who surged from the shadows with their pincers snapping. A primal fear possessed me, and I ran. I ran with wild abandon until I abruptly dropped.
I initially dismissed this intense headache as heavy fatigue from my marathon. My limbs were so heavy they might've been metal rods instead of flesh. But there was another symptom uncharacteristic of fatigue, and that was pain. Immense, searing pain reminiscent to being burned alive.
And I glanced down at my palm. There was blood. Fresh, dark blood streaming freely from a bluish, swollen gash in my skin. Rolling up sleeves presented similar, gory wounds.
Ah. Those spiders were poisonous.
"Grandfather!" I blurted. The rational part of my brain chided me for not calling Father instead. Grandfather was oceans away, yet for no sensible reason I immediately thought of him first. I knew that was stupid, yet I kept crying for my grandfather until my throat bled.
Was this it? Was I truly going to die and have my body claimed by the forest? To die alone without Grandfather to see me go…
Then I saw a light. Swiveling. Blinking. Approaching me.
"Grandfather?" I whispered.
The light sliced through the darkness, enveloping me in warmth. Very, very slowly did I pull myself up… and to my immense shock, I felt fine. The pain had receded to a faint throb, and the blood had dried. Either I was in the afterlife, or my weak little body had miraculously fought off the poisoning.
A rumbling sound emitted from the light, akin to the purring of a well-oiled motor.
"You want me to follow you?" I said.
And I swore it nodded.
Well. Instead of following Charon the ferryman, I should head back before Father missed his flight. I should've… but I didn't.
Without hesitation, I followed the light. Rather than approach the River Styx, we cut deeper into the heart of the forest. The canopies thinned to allow a glimpse of the moonless sky, one strewn with stars from the past, present, and future.
My body was sluggish, yet my mind was sharp. The light had spirited me to a handsome mansion tucked deep within the woods. When I turned back, I saw the light pass through the rusted ivory gates.
So! Ghosts were real!
Fueled by morbid curiosity, I hurried into the dilapidated mansion before I lost sight of the ghost.
As soon as I entered the basement, I was blasted with a torrent of soapy water. I then looked up in horror to see a washing machine towering over me, and I barely had time to react before it doused me again. As I scrambled for footing, powerful gusts of wind sent me rolling into the wall. The culprit was a hovering fan whose cord dangled in the air.
Instead of fearing for my life, like most sensible people would do, I felt relieved. My clothes have been sullied from my encounter with those spiders, caked in mud, blood, and whatever I fell into. That ghost had actually done me a huge favor. Imagine Father's great disappointment if he saw how I ruined the clothes he had specifically picked out for this occasion.
The fan then dropped to the floor, lifeless, and the familiar light rose from its metal shell. As it approached me, it crackled with electricity, radiating not an aura of malice, but curiosity.
Giggling, the light entered a robot lying in a heap of scrap. The robot then rose with its eyes brimming a lively blue. It sauntered over to me, a creaky arm raised as if greeting an old friend.
Against my better judgement, I squeezed the robot to my chest. I could only dream of owning this toy, and to actually hold one in my arms instead of peering longingly though the store glass… Why, I was simply moved beyond words.
"I wish I could stay and play," I told it. "But I'll inconvenience Father if I'm late. Can you take me back?"
The spirit possessing the robot obliged. I followed it out the mansion, over the stream and through the woods until I arrived back at the sunlit entrance. Was it still morning? A hasty glance at the clock tower revealed that I had not been gone for more than thirty minutes!
So was all that a fever dream? No, since the spider bites remained on my arms. And there was this robot beside me, staring at me expectantly.
"I can't take you with me," I said. "Father and Mother won't allow things that are impertinent to my education…"
But then again, what's wrong with rewarding myself once in a while? I wasn't asking for my parents' money. Besides, Father and Mother won't know what I didn't tell them.
So I accepted this living robot into my arms, wiping away its dried bloodstains with my fingers. Its motor was very warm as if the spirit within was emitting plenty of electricity.
"You need a name," I said. "How about Motor? Because you can enter motors."
The spirit blew a raspberry. Creativity wasn't my strongest suit, it seemed.
"How about Rotom?"
That, and the robot instantly brightened. Its happiness was contagious, so I afforded myself a genuine smile as well.