I would first like to thank everyone who has been reading and supporting this story thus far. It means the world to me. Writing is best undertaken as a social endeavor, at least in my opinion.
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LUCAS LEAWOOD, 19
A few minutes later, my mother was in the process of toasting bagels and cutting up fruit to make fruit salad. My sister, after a small amount of research, had told her the types of food Pokemon ate, but, for obvious reasons, we couldn't have them here.
As we waited for our food to be ready, Michaela and I held a spirited "debate" as to how we were going to spend the rest of our morning. I use the word "debate" loosely, because we didn't do much arguing.
I myself harbored a desire to get the hang of my new form first. I didn't know how long I would get to be a Growlithe for, and if there was any aspect of the experience to be enjoyed, I wanted to appreciate it as much as possible.
You might be thinking: Wait a minute, Lucas. In spite of the horror stories you were hearing about, you LIKED being a Pokemon? Are you crazy?
I wouldn't go so far as to say that I liked being a Pokemon. Rather, I was well aware that this is an event that occurs, at a maximum, once in a lifetime. Why not try to make the most of it?
Eventually, I reached an agreement with Michaela that we would go for a walk around town to check in on some of our neighbors. I had never exactly been a social butterfly, but I wasn't a monster either. I wanted to make sure our friends were safe.
When my mother came back to the table carrying a tray of bagels and a bowl of fruit salad, I told my sister to get back on the computer so that she could tell my mother about our plan.
I had begun to realize just how much of a hassle this new mode of communication would be. As a human, you're used to being able to express your thoughts, feelings, and needs through English, or whatever language you're used to speaking.
Now, however, I'd need to be mindful of which beings around me could understand the Pokemon language and which could not. It would take some getting used to, and I didn't envy my future self one bit.
After breakfast, Lucas and I are going to go check on the neighbors. We'll make sure that the Clarions and the St. Lawrences are okay.
My mother raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure it's safe to be out? You're the one who told me just how bad it was out there."
Michaela continued to type, loudly and abundantly. Even if it's contagious, what's the worst that can happen to the two of us? We're already Pokemon.
Clearly, Mom couldn't find a way to argue with this. "All right, just be careful, both of you. If all these people turned into mythical creatures, who knows what else is going on in the world today."
As it turned out, eating while being a Pokemon was quite a struggle. This surely wouldn't have been so hard if I were more used to my new body, but that's not the world I lived in.
It was rather humiliating to get to this point, but eventually my mother insisted on cutting up my bagel, mixing it with fruit salad, and putting it in a dog bowl on the floor. This was only after I had tried (and failed) to eat at the table.
When my mother exited the pantry carrying said dog bowl, I instantly felt my face redden from sheer embarrassment. I might have lost my human form, but that didn't mean I had to lose my dignity too.
Or maybe it does.
"Don't tell me that bowl is for me" I said, forgetting that my mother wouldn't understand my words. However, Michaela was on it right away. Before long, she had explained to my mother that Lucas doesn't want to eat out of a dog bowl.
"Well, he's going to. He has to eat somehow. I don't care if I have to force-feed him, he cannot skip breakfast. It's the most important meal of the day!"
My sister spoke to me in Poketongue. "Lucas, don't worry too much about it. I'm sure that millions of people all over the world are going through the same thing. Just eat it."
Resigned to my fate, I allowed my mother to place the bowl in front of me, and I began eating in this new way.
The fruit salad, strawberries and cantaloupe and watermelon, was delicious. The fruits were clearly as fresh as could be hoped for given that we didn't live too close to a farm. The only thing that spoiled it was the loss of dignity.
I'm literally eating like a dog right now. How embarrassing is that!
Even though I normally have a decent appetite, something about the food didn't sit right with me. Don't get me wrong, it tasted great, but it tasted great in an artificial way, as though I shouldn't be eating this.
Of course. This must not be Growlithe's natural diet.
As I polished off the last cube of melon, I began to worry that I wouldn't be able to cope with this new existence. I was getting ahead of myself, it is true, but if I couldn't eat human food, what choice did I have but to starve?
Don't worry about that right now. They're going to work on a solution to this. I'm sure they will.
Once breakfast was over, Michaela helped my mother clear the dishes off the table. It struck me then just how well she seemed to be adapting to the situation. This probably had something to do with the fact that she was bipedal still, and I wasn't.
While the females were busy cleaning up breakfast, I decided to head upstairs and look at myself in the mirror. Along the way, I passed by my father, a tall man with glasses carrying a laptop.
"Morning, Lucas," he said as he saw me.
I was shocked by how nonchalant he sounded about my becoming a Pokemon. I must have been staring pretty hard at him, because he then continued with, "I heard about what happened from your mother. Sorry that I slept late. I hope that they figure out a way to get you back to normal soon enough."
I couldn't complain about anything my father had said; it seemed perfectly reasonable to me. However, something about it annoyed me, probably because I couldn't respond properly to his words.
Anyway, I entered my bathroom and looked into the mirror. I had yet to see a reflection of myself today; normally, I thought of myself as fairly good-looking, with fluffy light brown hair and piercing blue eyes.
Of course, I wasn't normally a Pokemon.
What can only be described as a cute white beast looked back at me. My eyes had become black, and my entire body was covered in white fur, with several black stripes along my back. That might have explained the hot flash I'd felt as I was transforming, since I wasn't used to having a coat of fur.
That's one thing that will be annoying about being a Pokemon: Having fur and all the downsides that come with it.
All in all, I looked rather like a white tiger. I would have found this fascinating if I weren't so worried about what the future would hold.
Turning away from the mirror, I sighed deeply.
An hour later, once I'd had some time to decompress in my room, I joined the others in the kitchen. This included my father, who told me that, due to an executive order President Fiddlesticks had signed right away, he and all other "non-essential" workers could work from home.
Michaela looked rather annoyed. "Why did you take so long upstairs, Lucas? I thought we were going to leave sooner rather than later."
"Sorry about that" I replied, feeling rather guilty. "I just needed some time to myself. Some time away from the news, you know?"
My sister nodded. "I understand that. I would too, if I had known what's going on in Japan."
My heart sank. I had naively thought that Greece was the worst it could get, with there being a multi-car pileup, no survivors, and potentially a severe forest fire. My sister really sounded worried about Japan, though.
"What's happening there?" I asked her. Immediately I regretted it, for, judging by Michaela's tone of voice, it was a sore subject for her.
"There's been a huge earthquake there, and hospitals are totally overwhelmed. They're literally having to turn patients away because they don't have room. Honestly, we need to do what we can to avoid becoming new patients."
As my sister spoke, there was an immense amount of worry in her bright orange eyes. This didn't surprise me, because I'd always considered her to be the more empathetic one between the two of us.
"Well, we'll do our best to stay safe," I replied.
My parents were having a conversation with each other about something; I wasn't listening very closely, so I couldn't tell what. All I knew was that it seemed to be quite heated.
"Let's go," Michaela said eventually. "Let's check on the Clarions first, since they live closer to us than the St. Lawrences. We need to make sure they're all right."
I followed my younger sister out the back door and down the driveway. Almost immediately, I fully appreciated a major downside of having a thick coat of fur.
Namely, it was hot out there. It wasn't even eight in the morning, and yet it must have been in the high seventies. This might not sound that hot, but my coat probably added another fifteen degrees to what a weather station would call the RealFeel.
Before long, I began to pant. This is a little embarrassing, but I stuck out my tongue, looking very much like a dog who's just been on a long walk.
How many comparisons are there going to be between me and a dog? This is getting ridiculous!
The Clarion family lived about half a mile across town, closer to the downtown area (or rather, what passed for "downtown" in Wildebush.) They were some of my family's closest friends, and I generally had a good time hanging out with their son, Bradley.
Bradley Clarion was a few months younger than me, but in the same year at school. We'd both graduated high school two months ago, and in two weeks, we would be going our separate ways to different colleges.
At least, that was the plan before all of this happened.
Now, there was no telling whether the fire would be put out before college started. Maybe things would never go back to normal. Hell, it was entirely possible that I wouldn't live long enough to go to college.
I tried not to think about that last point.
Anyway, by the time we reached downtown Wildebush, I was absolutely spent. My fur was sticky with sweat, and I knew that washing up later was going to be a major pain.
Michaela wasn't doing much better. I could hear her panting, and she had been a runner prior to becoming a Braixen. That was how I knew she was struggling.
We walked past the local ice cream parlor, one of the best in the area. The family who owned it lived above the parlor, and we went there fairly often. As we passed it, I could practically taste the key lime pie ice cream they made; it was so heavenly.
Unfortunately, in an ominous sign of what was to come, the parlor's front door had been boarded up. It was a shame, too, because ice cream sounded amazing right about now.
We reached the Clarion family's front door, and Michaela rang the doorbell. We waited with bated breath for about half a minute before the door opened.
A tall male Pokemon stood behind the door. With scarlet upper legs and torso, yellow feet, beige hair similar to that of a rockstar, and wild teal eyes, his image was rather forbidding.
"You're a Blaziken!" Michaela blurted out.
The Pokemon, whom I now knew was a Blaziken, nodded. Unfortunately, his friendliness didn't last long, as he began to snarl at us.
"Who are you guys, and what are you doing here? I'm just trying to keep me and my parents safe during this crisis!"
"Bradley?" I piped up from behind my sister. "It's me, Lucas."
The Blaziken raised an eyebrow. "How do I know you're Lucas? Tell me something only Lucas would know."
I had to think about it for a moment. Eventually, I decided to say, "Your favorite color is #93D2FC, a shade of Light Sky Blue. You were afraid to admit it in elementary school because it was a 'girly color', your words, not mine."
Bradley threw up his arms. "All right, I guess it's you, Lucas." Turning to the Braixen beside me, he continued with, "And this must be Michaela?"
My sister nodded.
"Honestly", Bradley said eventually, "being a Pokemon is kind of cool. I always enjoyed the games when I was younger; it's kind of interesting to see how it goes in real life."
The reaction from Michaela was instantaneous.
"Are you crazy, Bradley? Europe is in total chaos right now, and so is Japan and who knows how many other places! And you think that it's cool?"
The Blaziken held up his arms once more as though he were under arrest. "I didn't say that!"
"Yes, you did" I replied. "You just said that it was cool to see Pokemon come to life. But this isn't a joke; it's not like a stupid video game with extra lives. Just like they say, there's no Planet B."
Bradley sighed, suddenly looking diminished despite his imposing stature. As a human he'd been rather scrawny, so I suspected that being bulky and strong was part of the appeal of being a Blaziken. Even so, this wasn't the type of situation to make light of.
"Fine," my friend replied, looking down towards the ground as though in defeat. "I'm sorry I wasn't more tactful, but…".
"Bradley, you know as well as I do that an apology is not sincere if there are conditions upon it. I'm...I'll let you in on a secret". That was me talking, and I was quickly becoming exacerbated.
"Uh...what is that?" the Blaziken responded.
"I used to consider you, not just my friend, but my best friend. But the key words there are used to. I'm glad you're okay, that you weren't one of the people in Greece trapped in a flaming car pile-up. But I don't know if I can get over what you just said."
As I was saying those words, I hated myself for saying them. At the same time, though, they say that a crisis brings about the worst in people. That was definitely true for me.
"Fine. Have it your way" Bradley replied. "But please leave me alone. Just move along, please."
I didn't have as much respect for the guy as I'd used to, but I was willing to honor that one request. Truth be told, I didn't want to talk to him any more either.
"Honestly, we should probably just go home" Michaela told me. "We don't want either of us getting heat stroke out here. We're just not used to having another layer on in the summer."
I agreed with her, but I also suspected that part of this might be because Michaela didn't want to spend any more time with me. This might sound ridiculous, but I was afraid she'd seen my mini-rant towards Bradley and decided that I'd been a jerk.
Well, he's really being cavalier about it. He doesn't have to be all doom and gloom, but he shouldn't be celebrating the Big Event. It's not something TO celebrate!
Sure enough, as we were walking through the common green of downtown Wildebush, my sister tore into me.
"Lucas, he's your best friend! At least, he was. And now look what you've done! You've ruined it!"
"No, he ruined it" I panted. "Once upon a time, I had great respect towards Bradley Clarion. Not anymore!"
"Still", Michaela insisted, sounding more even-tempered after her initial outburst, "this isn't the time to be burning bridges. I know I kind of egged you on, but Bradley made a mistake. Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, and that doesn't mean they're bad people."
I shrugged. "I'll admit that I could have been a little more diplomatic. But some things I just can't forgive."
My sister looked me right between the eyes, with metaphorical lightning in her own. "Yeah, well, we're all in this together. So you might as well learn to live with that reality."
Michaela was silent for the rest of the trip home. That was just fine by me, because I had to save all my energy for putting one paw in front of the other. It also gave me plenty of time to think.
Yes, my now ex-best friend had made a mistake. We all do; we were all human, or at least, we had been. None of us were perfect.
On the other hand, I couldn't see how I would ever be able to get past what Bradley had said. To him, this was all a game. Maybe I would forgive him, maybe I would even one day be friends with him when this was over. No matter what, however, I'd never be able to look at Bradley Clarion the same way again.
When we reached the driveway leading to my house again, Michaela turned to face me once more. Even though she was no doubt almost as sweaty and tired as I was, she still managed to radiate an aura of self-righteousness.
"Lucas, I know you think it's cool to hold a grudge against your former best friend. But holding grudges is a very common fatal flaw. Some would say it's like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies.
"Perhaps someday soon you'll need Bradley for something, and he won't be there for you. When that happens, I hope you will reconsider what you told him today."
And with that, she turned around and headed for the house.
I was going to wait until tomorrow to post this chapter, but I think the first few are short enough that you guys can handle it. Daily uploads won't continue forever, of course, given that I am in college.
That should be it. Thank you guys for 200+ views, and I'll see you guys next time.