No, I do not own pokemon, just like yesterday and the day before.
Scale
By Farla
I'm a pokemon. A trained pokemon. I belong to a rocket.
No, I'm not abused and covered in scars. I'm treated far better then I was by the jerk I was stolen from. Not a great life, I'll give you that. The battles are more brutal and the food is bad when I'm fed at all.
But my trainer actually likes me. She considers me her friend. Even gave me a name, Scale, which is more then I can say for any of my other trainers. Maybe not the most original one, but she actually cared enough to bother.
Sure, I get the crap beaten out of me, but at least my trainer isn't the one doing it. Fighting pokemon battles to steal pokemon is hard, but at least I can fight back and I don't just have to take the abuse.
I'm a realist. I'm a poison snake. People just don't like me. My trainers either traded me or released me. Given the choice, I'd like to be free, but whenever I get released some new brat catches me, and the abusive ones never release pokemon. Here, at least, people like me, my trainer likes me and I'm not getting traded to someone new at the first chance. I have a life, at least, even if it's not that great.