I opened my eyes. I was still tired, but it was 5:30 am. Time to get to work. I styled my hair (if you'd call brushing my short auburn hair styling) and changed into my uniform. Looking in the mirror, I realized just how ugly my black and green plaid uniform was. Oh well. It's not like it really mattered. At work (though it wasn't a theatre) I was more like a Behind-the-Scenes person then an actress. Then I went into the kitchen. To my surprise, my crazy old grandparents were already there.

"Surprise!" screeched my grandma, dancing around like a crazy Hoppip "Happy Birthday!" then she stepped aside revealing a huge cake and about 15 presents stacked on our little table. I truly thought that the table was going to collapse soon.

"My little Ami's growing up after all." croaked my grand father. "Sixteen. That there's a lucky number" That's what he's said every year since I could speak. When I was 15, when I was 14, when I was 13 and etcetera, etcetera.

I could never see what my grandparents saw in each other. They were nearly complete opposites. My grandma was crazy, and my grandpa. well, he was nearly too sane. Her, in her rainbow outfits, with her hair flying wild and with her crazy dancing. Then there was him. Him, with his suits, his straight-parted hair and his old-fashioned ways. But don't get me wrong. I love my grandparents. Both of them. I love them a whole lot.

Oh yeah. My birthday. You're probably wondering how I could possibly forget my own birthday. Well, my sixteenth birthday is also the sixteenth anniversary of the day that both of my parents died. My mother died having me, and my father committed suicide later that day because of depression. So, my birthday isn't exactly a happy day to me.

After my parents died, I went to live with my grandparents, Sylvia and Howard (See! Their names don't even fit together), or as you would probably call them, the Day Care Lady and the Day Care Man. I help them with the Pokémon. I want to be a trainer, but they asked me to stay and help them until I was 16.Because they had given me food (good food too. That is if Grandpa's cooking. But with Grandma cooking, that's a different story) and shelter (a little house. Sky blue and neon purple [hard to imagine, I know] there is an upstairs, but it's not allowed to guests) my whole life, I agreed. But now I am sixteen. I've been waiting for what seems like my whole life for this moment.





II



"Ammisa! Come here this instant." Grandpa yelled in his scratchy voice.

"Coming Grandpa." Ho hum. Maybe this talk will be about me becoming a trainer. Nah. I probably forgot to water the grass Pokémon or something.

I plopped down Indian style next to my grandfather, who was repairing a broken beach mat that looked like it had had a bad experience with a Sandslash.

"Ami, you're sixteen now." He croaked. "So this is the year that you will begin your Pokémon journey. We have many rejected eggs here that have not hatched yet. You may choose any one as your starting Pokémon."

I was startled. Yes! I can finally begin my Pokémon journey!

"Hmm. Are there any Teddiursa?"

"I'll check." His eyes scanned the designs on the many eggs. "Nope. No Teddiursa."

"How about. that one fire pup?"

"No way. To rare for us to have, sweets"

"Well what do you have, Grandpa?"

"Uh.. Lots of Rattata's, a few Pidgey's and Spearow, a couple of Snubble, one or two Wooper and.. Oh Yeah, we just got a Pichu."

"I'll take the Pichu! You know I'm a sucker for cute Pokémon."

"Okay. Remember, it will only hatch if you treat it well." He said. "But will you stay with us for a few more days? You don't have to work." Then he handed me the Pichu egg. It was yellow with pink dots. There were black lines connecting some of the dots to one another. I could tell it was a Pichu egg, but I could also tell it was not going to be a normal Pichu. His eyes looked rather sad. I kind of wanted to stay for a little bit, but I knew that there was no use to, or time to stall. I had a Pokémon journey to complete.



III

To pack, I stuffed 20 pairs of jeans and 20 shirts into a backpack. I don't care very much about how I look. I added some other stuff, but my list would probably bore you to death.

I accepted my grandparents' invitation to stay the night. In the morning, I had to go to Professor Remora's house to get my trainers license. Otherwise, I'd be on the most wanted list with all of the Jennies.

As I curled up in bed, snuggling with the egg, it suddenly struck me. Why go on a journey of the badges? What are badges worth? Nothing. Tomorrow, I promised myself, I'll ask Professor Remora if there was any other way.

When I woke up in the morning, I put on my clothes (an orange 3/4 sleeve sweater, with a white tank top on under it, and denim capris) I didn't even bother with my hair.

I ran to Professor Remoras' house. I pounded on the door, and rang the doorbell. A pretty young lady answered. She had long blond hair, and she was wearing a pastel pink lad coat.

"Hi! I'm Professor Remora. But my real name is Remora Magnus." She said in a musical voice. "And you must be Ammisa. Your grandparents called to tell me that you were coming. Come on in."

Hmm. She was nice, but she seemed kind of like one of those people that are just too nice. I wrote myself a mental note to watch out for her. Just a little bit.

"So. You must be here to pick out your starter Pokémon." She said, "We have Shellder, Paras and Ponyta

It was tempting. Very tempting. I could get another Pokémon without even trying. But, I decided, it might be rather hard for a beginning trainer like myself, to take care of two Pokémon.

"No thanks. I already have a Pokémon," I said lifting up the strange egg. It seemed a little bit heavier than it had yesterday. Maybe that means it's developing!

"Oh" she sounded disappointed. "Here is your license. I got it ready before hand."

"Wait! Don't I get a Pokédex?" I grew up watching Ash Ketchum: Pokémon Trainer.

"No. Only Professor Oak gives those out." She said. "Now shoo!"

"Hmph. I'm leaving, I'm leaving I said as I walked out the door.