What has gone before... Patrick is a 14 year old boy who is about to set out
on a Pokemon journey unique in its own right from his newly adopted home of
Pallet.
*** "There are only two people on record to ever have a Dragonair. One you might have heard of. A boy named Ash Ketchum. He is from right here in Pallet. The first one is... well, he's no one you'd have heard of. This is quite an accomplishment for someone who's not even a trainer yet," replied Professor Oak in a serious, and somehow ominous sounding voice.
"Who is the other trainer?" Patrick silently thought to himself. "I'll have to find out, somehow or another."
And now...
Chapter 2: The Journey Begins.
Patrick arrived at his home a little before noon. He figured his mother would be waiting anxiously to see the Pokemon her son had chosen, so he had hurried home. "Mom," he called, not seeing his mother, "where are you?"
"I'm in the kitchen" his mom called back.
Patrick smiled. He should have known. His mom loved cooking. He hadn't been around, so it was obvious she was cooking. He could have something to eat before he left. "What are you cooking?" asked Patrick, suddenly very hungry.
"A cake. It will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Why don't you finish gathering your things while I put the icing on the cake?" Said Patrick's Mom.
"Sounds great, mom. But what's the occasion?" asked Patrick as he eyed the cake.
"I'm having a friend over tomorrow, and you know how I like to have something for our guests."
Patrick went up to his room to pick up his things and put them in his new backpack. When he had finished, he went downstairs to eat a piece of cake and tell his mom about his day.
After the two had eaten and talked about his morning, Patrick's mom gave him a package. "What is it, Mom?" Patrick asked, shaking the box.
His Mom replied, "Open it and find out for yourself."
Patrick opened the box and found a cell phone. "Wow, Mom! Thank you." He hugged his mother and said, "Sorry I can't stay longer, But I need to get going, mom."
"I understand," she said. As her son walked out the door, she called "Be safe!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched him ride away on his bike through the window.
To be continued...
So, what does everyone think? Should I bother to write more, or should I just put a potentially great story out of its misery?
*** "There are only two people on record to ever have a Dragonair. One you might have heard of. A boy named Ash Ketchum. He is from right here in Pallet. The first one is... well, he's no one you'd have heard of. This is quite an accomplishment for someone who's not even a trainer yet," replied Professor Oak in a serious, and somehow ominous sounding voice.
"Who is the other trainer?" Patrick silently thought to himself. "I'll have to find out, somehow or another."
And now...
Chapter 2: The Journey Begins.
Patrick arrived at his home a little before noon. He figured his mother would be waiting anxiously to see the Pokemon her son had chosen, so he had hurried home. "Mom," he called, not seeing his mother, "where are you?"
"I'm in the kitchen" his mom called back.
Patrick smiled. He should have known. His mom loved cooking. He hadn't been around, so it was obvious she was cooking. He could have something to eat before he left. "What are you cooking?" asked Patrick, suddenly very hungry.
"A cake. It will be ready in about fifteen minutes. Why don't you finish gathering your things while I put the icing on the cake?" Said Patrick's Mom.
"Sounds great, mom. But what's the occasion?" asked Patrick as he eyed the cake.
"I'm having a friend over tomorrow, and you know how I like to have something for our guests."
Patrick went up to his room to pick up his things and put them in his new backpack. When he had finished, he went downstairs to eat a piece of cake and tell his mom about his day.
After the two had eaten and talked about his morning, Patrick's mom gave him a package. "What is it, Mom?" Patrick asked, shaking the box.
His Mom replied, "Open it and find out for yourself."
Patrick opened the box and found a cell phone. "Wow, Mom! Thank you." He hugged his mother and said, "Sorry I can't stay longer, But I need to get going, mom."
"I understand," she said. As her son walked out the door, she called "Be safe!" Tears rolled down her cheeks as she watched him ride away on his bike through the window.
To be continued...
So, what does everyone think? Should I bother to write more, or should I just put a potentially great story out of its misery?