I have a confession to make

I have a confession to make. I don't own pokemon, and I am writing about it. I wonder if that is a sin…? Whatever.

Brimstone comes. Fiery Brimstone.

They don't usually name eevees until they evolve. Then they give them religious names.

Brimstone is a flareon and was a friend of my mothers.

"Good news!" he says. I shudder. I have a feeling that his idea of good news is the opposite of what mine would be.

"They have decided to devolve you rather then kill you!" he says. "Master says they will do it at dusk."

Oh no. I won't be able to evolve back into espeon then…

He smiles and walks off. "Sorry I can't stay longer, but Master needs me to do things for him."

* * *

The void again.

"Father has told me that they will devolve you rather then kill you," she says.

Suddenly I snicker.

"What is it," she asks. Not even a question…I guess she is too far gone for that…

[The way you talk of your father…it is the same way Brimstone talks of his master] I say. [I wonder why I never noticed it before…?]

She ignores it. What is not answered by god should not be thought of. "You don't seem happy."

[I would rather die, then live like this, and live a lie. She killed herself, don't you see? That was what you drove her to. I am what I am. I will not be false to myself]

She walks away.

I could curse her god, and it would scarcely upset her. What does not fit into her view of reality is discarded and forgotten.

She is like a child. Ironic that she became this way with age.

I call out after her [Charity, don't you remember? When they burned my brother…can't you remember?]

She doesn't turn around, or even pause.

An emotionless void.

I shouldn't even try.

* * *

I will try to escape when the release me.

I only hope that if I fail and they catch me, my doing so will be reason enough for my death.

I keep on forgetting to write my main inspiration for writing this. The book Sugar Rain, by Paul Park. It is the second book of The Starbridge Chronicles, and the only one I own, but it is incredibly vivid writing of a horrible world of oppression, torture, chaos, and complexity. (For example, criminals who are on the same level as murderers and cannibals are homosexuals, people with yellow hair or blue eyes, and many others) I only wish I could ever write something a fraction of that power.