Darkened
Author's Note: Yes, I'll still continue with True Dedication, my other fanfic, but right now I feel the need to do something like this. You ever seen that episode about how Ash gets his Charmander because it was abandoned? Well, this is sort of like that, but about an unwanted Squirtle. Yes, I see the mobs and flames already, but what can I do? Oh well, on with it already.
It was so many years ago, yet it felt like yesterday, still feels like yesterday to me. And every time I think of you I cry. You were my Trainer, and you held up the sky in my eyes. I trusted you so much, with battle, with my health, with my life.
This was how I was rewarded. Dumped on an empty street corner. I remember it... but it hurts.
There you were, on a rainy evening like this. You opened my Pokèball and let me out, letting me stand on the damp pavement. I looked up into your eyes, a curious, pleading look in mine.
Your eyes showed hate to me, a glare that said I was worthless. You packed up my Pokèball and left me standing. I followed you, questioning why. But you told me to stay there, and not to ever follow you under any circumstances.
Then I understood.
You were leaving me.
You never cared if I lived or died, if I was eaten by a wild Poochyena that would mean nothing to you. As long as you got rid of me and could get a better Pokèmon. I felt as if my heart was shattering as I watched you go, move out of my life forever.
I could see you saying to your friends, "I finally dumped that worthless Squirtle and got myself a REAL Pokèmon, I got a Bulbasaur!" and I could see them patting you on the back and congratulating you for removing a pest from your life. I could see your other Pokèmon, so happy that I was finally gone, and all of you going on to become Champions in the Hall Of Fame.
All without me.
Any innocence I had left that day, any belief the world was good, was crushed as you got on your bike and cycled away.
It's been 3 years now. You would be so proud of me, to see how I've survived and grown. I'm now a Wartortle. My shell's a little scarred and scratched from all the battles I had to fight with other street Pokèmon for food and shelter, but I've always came out on top.
And somehow I still have a small, glowing hope inside me that you will someday see the error that you made, and come back smiling and waiting for me to come and hug you like I used to do when I was just a baby Squirtle and needed you to comfort me.
But these days that hope is the only thing I still need, the only thing I can rely on when times are tough and I feel like giving up, lying down and sobbing.
Only this can keep me living.
Without it, my heart is forever darkened.
Author's note: Maybe I'll make a short chapter on how the Squirtle's owner felt. I don't know. It's staying like this until I decide. I felt like writing something slightly depressing though.