Hi! Finally I got over my writer's block! WHEE! Well, just as a warning,
this chapter is a little graphic and gory near the end..so if you don't
like that stuff, just beware! Enjoy this chapter!
Duplica's talking, but I have no idea what she's saying. Something hovers in the back of my mind, this feeling of an impending event..and a bad one at that.
"They said you'll get to see Tentacruels," she said to me as she scans the crowd gathered around the boat.
I nod distractedly, as a tall, lanky figure suddenly catches my eyes. *Him.*
"What's *he* doing here?" I demand at Duplica, but she ignores me.
"Brock! We're over here!" She yells across the dock, and the two of them come over towards us.
Suddenly I know what's happened. We've been set up.
My heart suddenly is filled with an unmistakable rage at them. They, who don't understand us, feel like they have the right to solve our problem.
When he sees me, his head snaps up and I feel the heat of his glare on my face.
Before either of us knows what is happening, we're being ushered into a boat and Duplica and Brock are taking another one.
Those damn idiots, I think.
Ash looks so openly hostile towards them that I think he's going to lash out at something..or someone.
It is not even like we have a choice. A lady forces us onto the boat before we know what we're doing, and I'm stuck sitting on a bench next to him, watching Brock and Duplica wave goodbye to us.
My head is spinning, and I'm considering telling the woman that I have seasickness. But then I spot the small bottle of pills to cure it, and I decide to keep my mouth shut. As the boat speeds away, the bottom of the ocean reveals hordes of water Pokemon, but I can't pay attention.
Our bare legs are touching slightly, and I pull mine away quickly. I focus on not having to touch him. Every touch, that feeling comes back again. Every touch, and everything I once knew cascades away in a rush of whirling emotions, like a carnival ride. I hate him, I think. But every time I see his innocent brown eyes, his strong stature...I forget about Togepi. The water Pokemon are forgotten.
I feel sweat beading on my forehead. Once again, the rage comes back at him.
"I don't have warts or leprosy," he says in a tone of slight amusement.
I just ignore him.
"Come on," he adds after a few seconds, "I know you heard me." His voice is quavering slightly.
I'm not listening...
The tour guide is babbling incessantly, but to me, the only two people on the boat are me and Ash. The silence pounds in on me and I feel as one feels in a dream when they are sick. Trapped, helpless, and uncomfortable.
The boat's turning, and we dock at a nearby island.
"This island is small and inhibited, but it does have some wildlife on it. After we all snorkel, we will take a tour of the island," states the tour guide in a bright, chipper voice. "Please follow me. Those who do not choose to snorkel at this time may explore the island. However, the east side with the rocky cliffs is strictly forbidden. People have lost their lives there."
With those words, her eyes seem to penetrate through to me, and I shudder a little bit. Something about the woman's tone unsettles me.
I turn and grab my snorkeling things, and just then I see Ash heading out the door to the island.
Good, I think. He won't be bugging me, then. But then something makes me stop. I set down my snorkeling things and turn back towards the island. He's walking recklessly, painfully, almost. And then, for some reason unknown to myself even, I'm turning and following him.
~*~
"What are you doing here?" He demands, whirling around. We are, of course, the only two people on the island. Who else would pass up the chance to see water Pokemon in their natural habitats?
"I didn't feel like swimming today," I said, tossing my head.
"That's a load of BS, and you know it, Misty. Why did you really come?" He knows me too well. I wish he didn't.
"You think you know me, Ash. But it happens to be that I no longer like water Pokemon, so there!" A bald-faced lie, and we both know it.
I see his mouth turning up a bit on one side. "So they didn't treat you well in America, huh? I guess that's just too bad." Then he turns and walks away.
I'm standing there, wondering what on earth I should do. If I follow him, he might do something drastic. I don't know this new Ash Ketchum, this cynical, depressed person. I don't know what he might do.
Yes, I'll admit it. I am afraid of him.
So I head off to the north end of the island.
Waves lap gently at my feet, as if they are teasing me. These are the baby waves, the branches of their great mother. The water is about eighty degrees, and I wade along, picking up shells, just inhaling the ocean air.
No matter how upset I am, being around the water always makes me feel better.
I turn and climb up the rocky hill to find myself staring at a mass of jagged rocks below. The waves are crashing violently against the rocks, as if they can't wait to swallow up another victim.
I'm standing there for the longest time, just watching the water. Every time the waves recede and advance a different pattern swirls in the water, dancing in the sunlight. Taking in a deep breath, I turn to head back to the boat when I hear a noise next to me. I stop and turn around abruptly.
It's Ash.
He's standing at the edge of the cliff, an expression of almost profound morbidity on his face. And in a split second, I know what he is going to do.
The woman's words echo in my brain. People have lost their lives here..
Move, feet, move! My feet don't seem to respond to my brain, which has gone numb. I realize dully that they're moving, but not nearly fast enough. And then everything seems to be happening in slow motion. I'm lurching foreword only a split second later, but it's too late already.
He glances back at me once before taking one more step into open air. For an instant his eyes seem to bore some sort of laughing, cynical triumph into mine. Then he is gone.
All the air seems to be sucked out of my lungs. I lunge blindly up to the cliff's edge, and see him below, floating in the water. Swirling around him are tendrils of red.
My mind tells me he is probably dead. His brain's probably been dashed to bits when he hit the rocks below.
But my heart is still pounding, crying out in denial. I rush down the hill and towards the water. Without hesitation, I wade into the water. Almost immediately, it's above my head, and I'm clawing frantically at the slippery rocks and struggling to pull myself towards where his body is floating lifelessly.
The current is so strong. I feel it pulling at me, pulling away bit by bit, and I thank my lucky stars that I know how to swim.
Grasping another rock firmly, I hoist myself up towards him. For a moment my heart catches in my throat as I see the water, stained in crimson.
Then I push ahead, and sink myself into the water, pulling his head up to me, and swim back to the island. Suddenly déjà vu strikes me, head on. This has happened before, I think. Oh yes, the Orange Islands.
I remember my fear, that cold fear as I saw him floating there in the ocean. I remember my lack of hesitation. I'd loved him then, too.
It's harder to navigate through the ocean with one hand, but eventually, I make it onto the sand and lay him down.
"Ash! Ash! Answer me! Ash!" I'm screaming hysterically and shaking him. When remove my hands, I see them stained with blood. His legs are so twisted and mangled that I'm not sure if I'll ever see him walk again.
"Oh, God," I whisper, collapsing down on the sand, "What am I gonna do? I'm no nurse, but please, please help me to save him.."
I lean down and put my ear over his mouth. No breathing.
I remember when I was seven they taught us CPR at the Cerulean Gym, "just in case." I am bending over and placing my lips over his. They're so cold...not like when he kissed me. No, then they were warm, and nearly loving.
Tears spill onto my already soaking cheeks, dripping onto my lips. I'm so hysterical that I can barely gulp in enough air for myself, let alone for both of us.
Be calm. Concentrate. Focus.
I take a deep breath and try again.
The first time, nothing. I try and try again, and I hear nothing. Please, I plead mentally. Please don't die on me. Then he's coughing and spluttering, and I'm still gasping for air.
"Ash...?" I'm leaning foreword on my haunches, my heart pounding wildly. "Ash?"
Then I see the most blessed sight I've ever laid eyes on. His beautiful, deep brown eyes opened slowly, looking confused at first, and then resting on me.
Suddenly I see a light of remembrance dawn in his eyes, and they narrow with anger and pain.
"Misty, you- "he whispers hoarsely, and coughs. I'm horrified to see that blood is dribbling out his mouth.
"Don't talk! Just don't talk! Let me help you and hang on!" I'm more scared then I've ever been in my entire life, and I can barely even recognize my own shrill voice. Not just because I'm dealing with this human being who is in terrible shape, whose fate relies on my meager little skills. But this is Ash.
"Damn it, Ash. Why did you have to go and do this?" I mutter between my teeth, voice shaking. I see that the blood is soaking through his yellow t- shirt, and I strip it off. I need to stop the bleeding, and fast. He doesn't protest- much. But it's not as if he can, anyways. He can barely move, let alone force me away.
His chest is full of open wounds and shiny with blood. I take a deep breath. All that blood..soaking his clothes, soaking my clothes, and staining the sand. It's almost impossible to believe that someone can bleed that much and still live.
I rip off the bottoms of my pants and press them onto his chest to try to stop the bleeding. The shirt won't work because it is already soaked with blood. Underneath my hand, his cracked ribs heave in and out for air. In..out...in...out.. I concentrate on his shaky breaths...those shaky breaths that are keeping him alive.
"Turn over," I command, and he obeys. His back is much less bloody- he must have landed on his stomach. But as I work to stop the bleeding on his back, I notice something. Across his back are three large claw marks- scars from a long time ago. I press the leg of my pant onto one of the wounds and examine them closely.
I know this isn't the time to be making idle chitchat, but the question just bursts out of my mouth. "What happened to your back?"
I feel the muscles in his back tensing up, and he doesn't answer. In a second I realize that it would be stupid to expect him to. Stupid Misty, I think. He can barely even breathe.
"Don't answer!" I shriek, "You can tell me later! Never mind! Just hang on, Ash, hang on.."
Then, above the sound of my throbbing heart and the crashing of the waves, I hear voices.
Umm..nothing much to say, here! I was on a writing frenzy and I wrote for hours on end! Just make me happy and review ^_^
x~Aurora chan
Duplica's talking, but I have no idea what she's saying. Something hovers in the back of my mind, this feeling of an impending event..and a bad one at that.
"They said you'll get to see Tentacruels," she said to me as she scans the crowd gathered around the boat.
I nod distractedly, as a tall, lanky figure suddenly catches my eyes. *Him.*
"What's *he* doing here?" I demand at Duplica, but she ignores me.
"Brock! We're over here!" She yells across the dock, and the two of them come over towards us.
Suddenly I know what's happened. We've been set up.
My heart suddenly is filled with an unmistakable rage at them. They, who don't understand us, feel like they have the right to solve our problem.
When he sees me, his head snaps up and I feel the heat of his glare on my face.
Before either of us knows what is happening, we're being ushered into a boat and Duplica and Brock are taking another one.
Those damn idiots, I think.
Ash looks so openly hostile towards them that I think he's going to lash out at something..or someone.
It is not even like we have a choice. A lady forces us onto the boat before we know what we're doing, and I'm stuck sitting on a bench next to him, watching Brock and Duplica wave goodbye to us.
My head is spinning, and I'm considering telling the woman that I have seasickness. But then I spot the small bottle of pills to cure it, and I decide to keep my mouth shut. As the boat speeds away, the bottom of the ocean reveals hordes of water Pokemon, but I can't pay attention.
Our bare legs are touching slightly, and I pull mine away quickly. I focus on not having to touch him. Every touch, that feeling comes back again. Every touch, and everything I once knew cascades away in a rush of whirling emotions, like a carnival ride. I hate him, I think. But every time I see his innocent brown eyes, his strong stature...I forget about Togepi. The water Pokemon are forgotten.
I feel sweat beading on my forehead. Once again, the rage comes back at him.
"I don't have warts or leprosy," he says in a tone of slight amusement.
I just ignore him.
"Come on," he adds after a few seconds, "I know you heard me." His voice is quavering slightly.
I'm not listening...
The tour guide is babbling incessantly, but to me, the only two people on the boat are me and Ash. The silence pounds in on me and I feel as one feels in a dream when they are sick. Trapped, helpless, and uncomfortable.
The boat's turning, and we dock at a nearby island.
"This island is small and inhibited, but it does have some wildlife on it. After we all snorkel, we will take a tour of the island," states the tour guide in a bright, chipper voice. "Please follow me. Those who do not choose to snorkel at this time may explore the island. However, the east side with the rocky cliffs is strictly forbidden. People have lost their lives there."
With those words, her eyes seem to penetrate through to me, and I shudder a little bit. Something about the woman's tone unsettles me.
I turn and grab my snorkeling things, and just then I see Ash heading out the door to the island.
Good, I think. He won't be bugging me, then. But then something makes me stop. I set down my snorkeling things and turn back towards the island. He's walking recklessly, painfully, almost. And then, for some reason unknown to myself even, I'm turning and following him.
~*~
"What are you doing here?" He demands, whirling around. We are, of course, the only two people on the island. Who else would pass up the chance to see water Pokemon in their natural habitats?
"I didn't feel like swimming today," I said, tossing my head.
"That's a load of BS, and you know it, Misty. Why did you really come?" He knows me too well. I wish he didn't.
"You think you know me, Ash. But it happens to be that I no longer like water Pokemon, so there!" A bald-faced lie, and we both know it.
I see his mouth turning up a bit on one side. "So they didn't treat you well in America, huh? I guess that's just too bad." Then he turns and walks away.
I'm standing there, wondering what on earth I should do. If I follow him, he might do something drastic. I don't know this new Ash Ketchum, this cynical, depressed person. I don't know what he might do.
Yes, I'll admit it. I am afraid of him.
So I head off to the north end of the island.
Waves lap gently at my feet, as if they are teasing me. These are the baby waves, the branches of their great mother. The water is about eighty degrees, and I wade along, picking up shells, just inhaling the ocean air.
No matter how upset I am, being around the water always makes me feel better.
I turn and climb up the rocky hill to find myself staring at a mass of jagged rocks below. The waves are crashing violently against the rocks, as if they can't wait to swallow up another victim.
I'm standing there for the longest time, just watching the water. Every time the waves recede and advance a different pattern swirls in the water, dancing in the sunlight. Taking in a deep breath, I turn to head back to the boat when I hear a noise next to me. I stop and turn around abruptly.
It's Ash.
He's standing at the edge of the cliff, an expression of almost profound morbidity on his face. And in a split second, I know what he is going to do.
The woman's words echo in my brain. People have lost their lives here..
Move, feet, move! My feet don't seem to respond to my brain, which has gone numb. I realize dully that they're moving, but not nearly fast enough. And then everything seems to be happening in slow motion. I'm lurching foreword only a split second later, but it's too late already.
He glances back at me once before taking one more step into open air. For an instant his eyes seem to bore some sort of laughing, cynical triumph into mine. Then he is gone.
All the air seems to be sucked out of my lungs. I lunge blindly up to the cliff's edge, and see him below, floating in the water. Swirling around him are tendrils of red.
My mind tells me he is probably dead. His brain's probably been dashed to bits when he hit the rocks below.
But my heart is still pounding, crying out in denial. I rush down the hill and towards the water. Without hesitation, I wade into the water. Almost immediately, it's above my head, and I'm clawing frantically at the slippery rocks and struggling to pull myself towards where his body is floating lifelessly.
The current is so strong. I feel it pulling at me, pulling away bit by bit, and I thank my lucky stars that I know how to swim.
Grasping another rock firmly, I hoist myself up towards him. For a moment my heart catches in my throat as I see the water, stained in crimson.
Then I push ahead, and sink myself into the water, pulling his head up to me, and swim back to the island. Suddenly déjà vu strikes me, head on. This has happened before, I think. Oh yes, the Orange Islands.
I remember my fear, that cold fear as I saw him floating there in the ocean. I remember my lack of hesitation. I'd loved him then, too.
It's harder to navigate through the ocean with one hand, but eventually, I make it onto the sand and lay him down.
"Ash! Ash! Answer me! Ash!" I'm screaming hysterically and shaking him. When remove my hands, I see them stained with blood. His legs are so twisted and mangled that I'm not sure if I'll ever see him walk again.
"Oh, God," I whisper, collapsing down on the sand, "What am I gonna do? I'm no nurse, but please, please help me to save him.."
I lean down and put my ear over his mouth. No breathing.
I remember when I was seven they taught us CPR at the Cerulean Gym, "just in case." I am bending over and placing my lips over his. They're so cold...not like when he kissed me. No, then they were warm, and nearly loving.
Tears spill onto my already soaking cheeks, dripping onto my lips. I'm so hysterical that I can barely gulp in enough air for myself, let alone for both of us.
Be calm. Concentrate. Focus.
I take a deep breath and try again.
The first time, nothing. I try and try again, and I hear nothing. Please, I plead mentally. Please don't die on me. Then he's coughing and spluttering, and I'm still gasping for air.
"Ash...?" I'm leaning foreword on my haunches, my heart pounding wildly. "Ash?"
Then I see the most blessed sight I've ever laid eyes on. His beautiful, deep brown eyes opened slowly, looking confused at first, and then resting on me.
Suddenly I see a light of remembrance dawn in his eyes, and they narrow with anger and pain.
"Misty, you- "he whispers hoarsely, and coughs. I'm horrified to see that blood is dribbling out his mouth.
"Don't talk! Just don't talk! Let me help you and hang on!" I'm more scared then I've ever been in my entire life, and I can barely even recognize my own shrill voice. Not just because I'm dealing with this human being who is in terrible shape, whose fate relies on my meager little skills. But this is Ash.
"Damn it, Ash. Why did you have to go and do this?" I mutter between my teeth, voice shaking. I see that the blood is soaking through his yellow t- shirt, and I strip it off. I need to stop the bleeding, and fast. He doesn't protest- much. But it's not as if he can, anyways. He can barely move, let alone force me away.
His chest is full of open wounds and shiny with blood. I take a deep breath. All that blood..soaking his clothes, soaking my clothes, and staining the sand. It's almost impossible to believe that someone can bleed that much and still live.
I rip off the bottoms of my pants and press them onto his chest to try to stop the bleeding. The shirt won't work because it is already soaked with blood. Underneath my hand, his cracked ribs heave in and out for air. In..out...in...out.. I concentrate on his shaky breaths...those shaky breaths that are keeping him alive.
"Turn over," I command, and he obeys. His back is much less bloody- he must have landed on his stomach. But as I work to stop the bleeding on his back, I notice something. Across his back are three large claw marks- scars from a long time ago. I press the leg of my pant onto one of the wounds and examine them closely.
I know this isn't the time to be making idle chitchat, but the question just bursts out of my mouth. "What happened to your back?"
I feel the muscles in his back tensing up, and he doesn't answer. In a second I realize that it would be stupid to expect him to. Stupid Misty, I think. He can barely even breathe.
"Don't answer!" I shriek, "You can tell me later! Never mind! Just hang on, Ash, hang on.."
Then, above the sound of my throbbing heart and the crashing of the waves, I hear voices.
Umm..nothing much to say, here! I was on a writing frenzy and I wrote for hours on end! Just make me happy and review ^_^
x~Aurora chan