Chapter Two
Walking On Moonbeams
The light from the moon only partially illuminated the girl's face, revealing one green eye and half a cheek of pale skin. The girl paused at a corner as she pushed back a stray lock of orange hair and listened carefully. When she was satisfied that no one was lurking in the darkened corridor ahead, she deftly moved around the corner and cautiously made her way. She was suddenly thankful for the black uniform they forced her to wear; good camouflage.
As she rounded another corner, the moonlight glinted on the golden necklace she always wore and she came face-to-face with the silent silhouette of a woman. The girl stared at the shadowy figure, and although alarm bells were ringing in her head, she couldn't take her eyes away.
This woman, she must be from…my past. she though to herself. There was something familiar about this woman, who stood so proudly, with a wisp of long hair curling by the top of her legs. Although the girl had no memory of the woman, she was somewhere in her mess of thoughts. The girl fell to her knees in front of the woman.
"Tell me!" she screamed, a little too loudly for someone trying not to be caught. "Tell me who I am! Tell me why I'm here!" The woman looked uncomfortably, and almost guiltily at the sobbing red-head at her feet.
"Misty, go. Go now. Don't wait, don't look back, just run." the woman whispered. The girl looked confused.
"Mis-Misty? They told me my name was Mystic…"
"Listen, leave now. It's your only chance. You need to find the other twerps."
"What…"
"GO!" screamed the woman. Misty stood up, and began running, then turned around, as if it was an afterthought.
"Why are you helping me? You're one of them." She whispered, tears still running down her face. The woman smiled smugly.
"Just considered it a debt that my partner and I owe you Misty. Now GO!"
As the young girl from her past disappeared into the shadows, Jesse sighed. She would get in so much trouble if Giovanni found out about this. I'd better go find James and Meowth she thought to herself.
Misty had abandoned all thoughts of being quiet as she ran through the hallways.
Christ, this place is like a maze. she thought to herself as she ran. Her chest hurt, she didn't get much exercise cramped in that cage they had the nerve to call a room all day. Misty. The name ran through her head. She couldn't say the name sounded familiar because nothing was familiar to her anymore.
Suddenly, she collided with something. Fearfully, she looked up into the cold un-compassionate of a blonde woman. She groaned as she recognised the woman. Her name was Cassidy, she was the one who brought her food.
"Well now," snapped Cassidy's icy voice. "And where might you be going little girl?" Misty willed her legs to run, but they weren't getting the message. "Have you got permission to be wandering around the corridors at night?" Cassidy grabbed her by the ear, and proceeded to drag her back to her 'room', and laughed as she turned the lock.
Alone once more, Misty sat on her bed. She was too tired for tears; too unhappy for tears. Misty the woman had said. So, her name was Misty. She sighed, and lay down.
I wish I could remember, she thought to herself. She was just a girl, with no past, and no future. Day after day, she survived in this place, a place she didn't even know. Why did they keep her alive?
[…=START FLASHBACK=…]
Her head hurt, and her vision was blurry. As her surroundings became clear, she screamed as she noticed three bodies, lying in pools of blood around the room. Desperately, she moved her eyes away, but came face-to-face with the barrel of a gun.
"Wait!" came an authoritative voice from across the room. He stood up, and met Misty's pleading aqua eyes with his own. "Why are you killing her? She did nothing wrong. It was her sisters fault."
"Son!" boomed another voice. Everyone in the room whirled around as a man in an orange suit strode towards the young man who had spoken for her life. "You are showing weakness." The boy defiantly stood his ground.
"How much of a bother can she be father? Besides, it might be nice to have someone to talk to who's not a member of organised crime."
"That's enough of your cheek young man." The two stared each other down for a few seconds, then the man broke the gaze with his son, and looked at Misty, who was still on the floor. "You, girl. What's your name?" Misty opened her mouth, but stopped. She couldn't remember her name. She frantically searched her mind, but found she could remember nothing. Nothing at all.
"I…I…don't…know sir." she stammered.
"Are you mocking me young lady?" asked the man, whose voice had suddenly become dangerously calm. "I'd advise you not to, as I am a dangerous enemy to make."
"Sir?" interrupted a timid voice. "Look at the bruising to her head, she could well have amnesia."
"I'm well aware of her injuries Ross," snapped the man. He then surveyed Misty again. He was about to speak when a man, woman and a Pokémon called a Meowth entered the room.
"You called us Giovanni?" said the woman, bowing.
"Jesse," asked Giovanni, "Do you know this girl?" Jesse looked at Misty, and shock appeared on their face.
"Ye…yes Sir, we do."
"You know me?" asked Misty excitedly. "What's my name?" The woman's lilac haired partner spoke up.
"You don't know your name Miss Twerp? Isn't it Mist-" He was silenced by a glare from Giovanni.
"Mystic" he cut in. "Your name is Mystic." He turned to his son. "Rudi? Do what you will with her. She is no longer my concern." He made a swift arm movement, and Ross and a woman with short green hair took Misty by the arms. The last thing Misty heard before she was dragged out of the room was Giovanni talking to Jesse and her partner.
"You three are to have no contact with her, lest she should recover enough memory. Do I make myself clear?"
"Crystal Boss" came three voices.
[…=END FLASHBACK=…}
Misty sat up in her bed again, and after a few seconds stood up. She walked over to her barred window, and curled her fingers around the cold rusty metal. The moonlight glinted on her necklace again, and fondly she reached up and unclasped it. She turned the tiny heart shape over and over in her hands.
One day, she promised herself, when I get out of here, I'll find whoever gave me this.
Not so very far away, in a small town called Pallet, Ash Ketchum sat in his room in the dark. His curtains were drawn and the glow of the moon and stars basked his room in a silver light. In his hands, he held the six or seven pictures that Brock had given him that day. He leaned over, and pulled a cedar box from underneath his bed.
As he opened the box, Ash inhaled the piny scent, like he had done countless times in the past year. He moved a couple of papers aside, and gingerly, almost lovingly, pulled out a picture. This picture was dog-eared, and had obviously been folded and unfolded many times. Ash was confronted once more with Misty's funeral picture, which he had banished to a box under his bed, because it still hurt him so much.
"One day," he promised the picture, out loud, "you'll be in a golden frame and on display again." He stuffed the other pictures in the box, and shoved it back into place. He turned his attention back to the moonlit window. I'll never give up on you Misty, he thought to himself, you have to be alive. He sighed, and went to close his curtains, but before he did, he took one more look. Well Myst, at least we're looking at the same sky. He left the curtains open, and finally sleep overtook him.
Back in the Rocket HQ, Misty slept facing the window, letting the moonlight cover her face. It gave her a mysterious comfort for some reason.