Happy Thursday, everybody. This is my favorite chapter so far, and I hope you guys enjoy it just as much as I enjoyed writing it.
Also, in case anyone is wondering, Wildebush isn't in any particular state. It's in a fictional state; think of it like Springfield from The Simpsons.
LUCAS LEAWOOD, 19
The rest of the day wasn't fun.
After following my sister back inside the house, I tried to keep my distance from her for the rest of the morning. The argument I'd had with Michaela had affected me more than I liked to admit.
It occurred to me that not only had I screwed up my friendship with Bradley Clarion, but I might have damaged my relationship with Michaela Leawood as well. No, not might; I had damaged it.
Whether that damage would be irreparable or not remained to be seen. Even if it couldn't be fixed, though, I figured that the wounds wouldn't be nearly as deep as those I'd created with Bradley. At least that was somewhat comforting.
For the next few hours, I tried to look for ways to entertain myself in my room. However, when you've just become a quadruped and everything feels heavily awkward, your options in that department are limited.
Looking at the different countries in my atlas had lost its appeal. Whenever I looked at the map of Europe, for instance, I couldn't even last five seconds without feeling tears form in my eyes. I'd seen some of the horrors on TV; I didn't want to see all of them.
My prospects for enjoyment today were looking pretty bleak. At a certain point, my options were either to sleep, vegetate, or doom scroll.
I didn't think that I could sleep in the middle of the day, and if I simply tried to vegetate, then I would end up like a caged tiger - which, of course, I kind of was already.
No. My only choice at this point was to doom scroll, so I reluctantly turned on my computer and opened up my Twitter feed. I braced myself for the deluge of dystopian headlines that were sure to come right at my face.
Now, for those who have never heard of doom scrolling before, consider yourself lucky. It can only be described as "the act of spending a disproportionate amount of screen time consuming negative news stories." In other words, looking through my Twitter feed at stories related to the mass transformation was an example of this practice.
As one can probably imagine, this practice, when done with any frequency, is likely to be majorly detrimental to one's mental health. Do as I say, not as I do.
And yet, that was the very practice I found myself engaging in that morning, simply because I had nothing better to do. Sometimes life just sucks.
I scrolled through the headlines for several minutes before coming across one that caught my eye. It was, Japanese Hospitals Overwhelmed By Transformed Patients: Live Updates.
My heart sank as I realized that my sister had told me about this earlier. I recalled her words: We need to do what we can to avoid becoming new patients.
As much as I didn't want to dwell on thoughts of Michaela right now, I knew she had a point. It was up to everyone to stay safe.
Against my own better judgment, I clicked on the video. Almost instantly, I wished I hadn't.
The scene was of an emergency department in a Japanese hospital. I couldn't read any of the signs due to being monolingual myself, but the video provided captions in English. Even if they hadn't, though, I would have been able to get the general idea.
In a heavily accented tone of English, a female reporter in a hazmat suit and face mask began by saying, "What you're looking at is the ER at Nakagawa Hospital in Tokyo, Japan. The one-two punch of the mass transformation and a magnitude 7.7 earthquake has overwhelmed this hospital and others in Japan. It feels like a long time since the Big Event happened, but let me remind you all: It has only been seven hours."
Heavily injured Pokemon were being brought into the hospital on stretchers, some of them crying in pain and others unconscious. Doctors and nurses in full PPE were carrying said stretchers to rooms where the Pokemon would be examined.
One of the images stuck with me the most. A fox-like Pokemon whose chest fur had been singed off lay on one of the stretchers, groaning in pain. This Pokemon's family, what looked like two parents and a brother, were trying to get in close to the stretcher, but the orderlies blocked them from doing so.
I can't imagine how hard it must be to see someone you love in pain like that. Not only that, but not being able to do anything about it…
I couldn't help it; I felt tears begin to form in my eyes. No matter how much I tried to resist the urge to weep, it wasn't much longer before I found myself bawling in earnest at the sight.
Although I was having a hard time watching this video from an emotional standpoint, the reporter kept going.
"This hospital is warning the public that they are full to capacity. If this surge continues, they may not be able to take any more patients, and they will have to start choosing who lives and who dies."
Choosing who lives and who dies.
Suddenly, a female nurse in scrubs and a face shield saw the reporter and walked over to her. In Japanese, but with English subtitles, the nurse asked, "Can I help you in any way?"
The reporter nodded. "I was wondering if you could answer a few questions for us about the current situation. This is all to help enlighten the public; if there's anything they need to know in order to stay safe and to help you guys, then feel free to tell them."
"Sure" the nurse replied, leaning into the microphone. "What I'd like to tell those in Japan, and the rest of the world for that matter, is that this hospital is completely full. We will have to prioritize certain patients for care soon enough."
"Isn't that called triage?" the reporter asked the nurse. "I thought that was what emergency departments did all the time."
The nurse nodded grimly. "You're correct; to some extent, we already do this. However, the surge is growing in intensity, and before long we will have to make very difficult decisions, decisions that will determine life or death. Believe me, that's something we do not want to do."
As I was viewing this video, my heart was beating right out of my chest; at the same time, the video was tugging on my heartstrings like crazy. It's certainly an odd sensation to experience both at the same time.
The reporter continued. "One last question, and then I promise I'll let you go: What can the average person do to help you guys?"
The nurse's response was instantaneous, automatic, as though it had been rehearsed in preparation for this one moment. Her words were simple and powerful.
"Don't take this the wrong way", she responded curtly, "but do what you can to avoid becoming our patient."
"Well, that is certainly an effective motto. All right, thank you for the interview."
With that, the reporter continued speaking directly to the camera. "This is Noriko Nanahara, with JTV News. Back to you."
I couldn't handle it anymore; I refused to watch any more footage of this overwhelmed hospital. Some would say that by doing so, I was turning my back on this immense level of suffering, and how could I do that and still consider myself a decent person?
However, I knew on some level that if I saw too much doom and gloom, eventually I would grow numb to it. I could never live with myself if I did so.
How lucky are we here? No earthquake, less traffic accidents as a result of the event...yeah, it's bad here, but it could be a lot worse.
After that, I decided to take a break from the Internet. It had become a rabbit hole of stories that were almost tailor-made specifically to raise one's level of concern through the roof.
And to think that just seven short hours ago, the world was perfectly peaceful. Incredible how everything can turn upside down in less than half a day.
"Lucas? Are you okay?"
That was the voice of Michaela. Even though she was now a Pokemon, and her voice sounded somewhat different than it had before, I had lived with her long enough to be able to recognize it right away.
"Yeah...I'm fine" I lied. Even as I said it, I knew it wasn't true.
My sister walked up to me and said, "Please, Lucas. Stop doom scrolling. You know it's not good for you."
I shook my head. "I can't turn my back on all of this suffering. I just can't. Just look at what's going on in Japan."
Michaela nodded. "I know. It's so upsetting. But unless you find someone who can teleport us to Japan, there's nothing we can do about it. Besides, the borders are closed too."
I raised my eyebrows, or rather, what passed for eyebrows on a Growlithe. "What?"
"Nobody's allowed in or out of Japan. In fact, most countries are shutting their borders to all but residents and essential traffic, including our own United States. This is just in case it's an infectious pandemic."
I remembered what President Fiddlesticks had said about the transformations possibly being contagious. Personally, I didn't see why it would be, but the scientists would certainly know more than I did.
We sat there in silence, me digesting that new information, for a solid minute before I continued.
"By the way, I'm sorry I was that rude to Bradley. I shouldn't have been."
My sister looked partly confused, partly annoyed. "Don't apologize to me. Apologize to him. I'm sure he would love to hear from you."
"No," I replied. "He wouldn't. Besides, aren't we supposed to be doing social distancing or whatever? Just in case this is a pandemic?"
Michaela frowned. "I don't know if that's necessary if we're all already Pokemon. What's the worst that could happen to us?"
Something told me that Murphy's Law applied here. Anything that could go wrong, would go wrong.
The afternoon felt interminable. The house's air conditioning was on full blast, but it didn't work. Not well enough. My fur seemed to trap all of the heat from the sun and radiate it throughout the rest of my body.
If I never become a human again, I'm not so sure that I'm going to live very long. Even if there aren't riots in the streets, I'll probably get a heat stroke one of these days.
However, the biggest reason for the agonizing slowness of the rest of the day was not the physical discomfort, but rather the emotional turmoil I was beginning to face.
Whenever I'm facing a period of high anxiety, I tend to want to be alone. It's much easier for me to relax when I'm not surrounded by others, even if it isn't healthy to bottle up all of one's feelings.
In addition, I hadn't yet appreciated just how difficult some simple tasks of everyday life would become with four legs. I'd known it would be hard, just not this hard.
The first challenge was drinking water. As a human, you're used to the simplicity of turning on the sink and being able to take exactly the amount of water you need, when you need it. This became a lot more complicated in my new form.
Instead of getting a glass of water or turning on the garden hose, I filled the bathtub with cold water and drank out of that. It was rather demeaning to do it this way, but I didn't see any other option.
Even worse was going to the bathroom, which, when you drink as much water as I was, is something you have to do frequently. Relieving oneself outdoors isn't exactly pleasant, and it's even less so when you're in a neighborhood where it's quite possible others will see you.
The only way I managed to comfort myself about this and relieve (heh) the embarrassment was to remind myself that millions of Pokemon all over the world were doing the exact same thing. Even so, that didn't help much.
It was different for Michaela. She took to her new form rather well, certainly better than I did. While the reasons for this were fairly obvious, I was still more proud of her than I had been for quite some time.
During dinner that evening, my younger sister sat in the chair I usually used, and I ate steak from a bowl on the floor. I'd been somewhat worried about Severe Gastrointestinal Distress™ from the human food I'd eaten earlier, but that fortunately had not come to pass yet.
I found that I had developed a taste for steak. I had always liked red meat, but this tasted even better than it usually did.
That makes sense. After all, I AM a carnivore now.
The meat was just so juicy, so tender, just the right amount of sauce on it...suffice it to say that I almost felt like exclaiming, "This is heaven!"
Almost...except that Michaela and my parents kept looking at me as they ate. Since my parents couldn't understand the sounds coming out of my sister's vocal cords, they couldn't exactly hold a proper conversation.
Being looked down upon, not figuratively as an insult, but literally, as a necessity, was one of the greatest indignities a young man can experience. At age nineteen, I wanted people to respect me, and being treated this way felt like a form of disrespect.
They didn't choose this situation, though. It's just something horrible that happened to the whole world. Get over it.
After dinner, Michaela told me she had news to share, but I brushed her off, saying that I needed some rest. This was despite the fact that it wasn't even half past seven yet and I usually slept around ten.
So I went up to my room, got into bed with a little difficulty, and tried to get comfortable, with far more difficulty. I soon realized that perhaps this was yet another part of my everyday routine, along with drinking, eating, and going to the bathroom, that I would have to rethink my approach to.
We had had a pet dog at one point, but he died when I was twelve, and we'd never gotten another one. Despite this, though, we still had our dog's bed lying around. That was certainly an option if I found myself unable to sleep tonight.
I also didn't even bother to shower or bathe. I probably really stink after being out in the sun this morning, but I don't trust myself to be able to work the faucets properly.
What triggered the above thought, you might ask? Well, simply put, realizing that a pool of sweat was forming all around me.
I tossed and turned for what felt like hours as the sky outside transitioned from blue to orange to cobalt, navy, and eventually black. Indeed, if the sky went through that many colors, it must have been hours.
I don't know how many hours it was, for I might have been going in and out of sleep; that's the odd thing about some nights. All I know is that I eventually drifted off for good, and it was then that my nightmare began.
In my dream, I was somewhere else. More specifically, a rural area near the sea, with cars lined up along a highway and sirens blaring.
The geography looked a lot like coastal California, with dry trees and shrubbery dotting a rather dull, and yet still beautiful, landscape. There were cliffs along a far-off coastline as well.
And then I saw the flag, and then I realized that it couldn't be coastal California.
On top of a fire truck that was driving along the highway, I saw a small flag that, with my new, keener Pokemon eyes, I was able to see quite clearly as the truck drove past.
The flag had a blue square in the corner with a white cross in the middle of said square. There were also nine stripes (five blue, four white) along the rest of the flag.
This isn't California. This is Greece.
As I came to this realization, I heard more sirens going off, and then I turned to face the flames.
This was the same car pileup that had claimed the lives of several of the transformed. The same one that had caught fire yesterday. And, most alarmingly, I now saw the end result.
The pile of cars was just a smoldering pile of rubble now, but it had been a bonfire that had trapped the drivers inside of their cars and then slowly cooked them alive. I realized grimly that a crematorium wouldn't even be necessary, as firefighters sifted through their charred remains.
A power line was down, and, from what I could tell, it had triggered a forest fire indeed. The blaze was so powerful that I could barely breathe; it was literally sucking the oxygen right out of the air!
I couldn't believe it, and I started to panic. It felt almost like I was drowning.
A man in a fire retardant suit came running over to me in the early morning darkness. At first I thought he was a firefighter, but it soon became clear to me that he was a reporter, as he was carrying a microphone with him.
This isn't unlike the scene at that Japanese hospital, I realized. He wants to interview me!
The man held the mic to my mouth and asked me something in Greek. Being that I didn't know a lick of that language, I couldn't respond. Of course, being that he was a reporter, he was likely asking me to tell him what I knew.
"I don't know what you're saying!" I shouted frantically. "Just get me out of here!"
It may be worth noting that I knew this was a dream, but this didn't make it any less frightening. On the contrary, it was even more vivid than real life, and besides, it was real life for the people of Greece.
The man began shouting at me, and it seemed as though he were speaking very quickly. So quickly, in fact, that had he been speaking English, I still would not have been able to understand him.
Suddenly, the scene changed, and I found myself in a sterile room that looked very similar to a news studio. There were graphics all over the walls and several chairs next to the screens.
My earlier hunch was confirmed when I saw a table nearby with several people who looked like news anchors, covering the wildfire in Greece as though it weren't a matter of life and death.
I felt anger rising within me. I was relieved, of course, to be out of the fire, but I felt fire in my muscles; still in my Growlithe form, I could have run over to the anchors' table and tackled them to the ground.
Of course, I knew that if I did that, my mother might literally kill me. She loved the hosts of MSNBC; it was her favorite news network. I didn't watch much cable news myself, but to each their own.
Anyway, one of the hosts, a man who looked to be in his late thirties, began the conversation with, "The wildfires in Greece have claimed several hundred lives already, and they are still far from containment. In addition to the 371 confirmed victims, there are hundreds of people and Pokemon still reported missing. It's expected that some of the missing will later be declared dead."
There it was again. Even though the host was discussing such a tragedy, he covered it so objectively, in a manner so detached from the realities of peoples' lives.
The woman next to him at the table continued. "Complicating the task of locating the missing is, of course, the fact that many of them have become various types of Pokemon. We here at MSNBC send our thoughts and prayers to the victims of this event, as well as anyone else affected."
Thoughts and prayers are pretty much equivalent to doing nothing. These people have platforms, they could actually do something to help!
My anger at that, however, was soon replaced by a knowledge that there probably was only so much they could do. They were news anchors, they didn't dictate actual governmental policy.
A few seconds later, I woke up. Sitting bolt upright in bed (to the extent that it was possible as a Growlithe), panting and covered in a cold sweat, I saw that the morning sun was beginning to stream through the nearby window.
At the time, I was relieved that it had only been a dream, and that I was free from it now. Even if the events had been really happening elsewhere, part of me was glad it wasn't me.
It wasn't until a little later that I'd find out that the waking world would be its own nightmare.
If you like this story, feel free to check out "My Name is Will, and This is My Story" by Wpc2002. It's also in the PercentVerse.
I'd like to thank everyone for their support once more, and stay safe.