Hi everyone!
First things first, an apology for the sheer length of time this chapter has taken me. The combination of a little writer's block, a huge exam, and too much coursework. But the next chapter is in the pipeline, and shouldn't be as long in coming (hopefully ^_^;).
And once again, big thanks to Cultnirvana, without whom this would be unreadable. And to all you reviewers, luv ya all loads for taking the time. Hope I can keep on entertaining you all - fingers crossed!
Well, that's all for now, on with the show...
Where the River flows - Chapter V
Midnight, July 22nd - Tomorrow. D-day. It may be all, may be nothing. But the coin has been tossed, and all coins come down one way or the other. Now it's not tomorrow, its today. And I want it all to go away. I want it all to go away. All to go away. Just away. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of my mind, that's where I've gone. Fuck it all. I don't know what to do. If I win, I lose. Which is more precious, me or I? But today, I, I will find my destiny.
My breathing is harsh and heavy, mouth wide open, taking great lungfuls of air as I struggle to keep up in the chase. Chikorita is quicker than I ever gave her credit for. Or maybe I'm just getting lazy. I resist the temptation to chuckle, conserving all my energy for running. This has happened before, and it was muggins here who did the hard yards then too. Not to say Ash didn't, but I had to chase her down, and talk her into listening. Ash knows that Chikorita won't listen to him when she's worked up, because she's so possessive. She ends up hysterically declaring something ridiculous, then gets upset because she's told she's wrong, and yells that Ash is being biased towards so-and-so. But I've got a knack, a way of calming people down. I am naive, yes, but only to the way of the world, politics and technicalities. I can clearly see when someone is pissed off or depressed. And then it's just being logical, saying what I think should be said when it's needed. Simple, but effective. My one weakness is the fallacy of exaggeration. Up ahead of me, the crashing of undergrowth ends, and, sensing the end of the pursuit I put on an extra spurt to catch her. And fall flat on my face as the long grass suddenly parts, removing the resistance I was leaning into. Shaking off the daze and blinking away stars, I scan the clearing. Just a patch of short grass surrounding a huge tree, it's immense canopy throwing the area into shadow. A Horse chestnut tree, I think. And deep in its cloak of shadow, huddled against the gnarled and rough trunk, a little figure. Chikorita, face buried in a soft tuft of grass at the base of the trunk, trembling silently. She is still such a child, imagining that the world will go away if you hide it from view. Barely younger than me, but still holds a mile wide streak of youthful idealism, and the way she's almost waiting for everything to go away and then for her eyes to dry before she looks up again speaks volumes. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to disappoint her.
("You can't stay there forever, you know.") I intone gently, pacing towards her. The reply is a sniffle. I keep on coming closer, taking my time. Every second I don't speak is one she has to wait to hear what I will say next. And her imagination will be running in overdrive, telling her that she can't hide, that she's already been found, and she's going to have to face the music. Now I'm beside her, and I lay down gently. So close she can hear my breathing. In, out, in, out. Just marking each moment that is passing, innocently reminding that life goes on as usual. Eventually, she snaps.
("I can try.") With a voice like a creaking gate signalling the presence of tears on her face. Not unusual.
("Can you?") I reply.
("Yes.") I decide to take the future in my hands, and push her.
("Liar.") Simple, but effective. She raises her sweet, tear-stained face and looks at me accusingly.
("I can wait as long as I want.") She irksomely snaps, scowling furiously.
("No you can't, not really. You love Ash too much to lay here until you've gone, you know that.") And I know that too, I add subconsciously. She won't. Ash is her heart. She resisted joining him, but ever since, without him she's lost, like she is now.
("Maybe...") That simple word is a give away. Suggesting restraint while opening a huge chasm of doubt.
("Yeah, and I'm a hedgehog.") She bridles, and spits her reply.
("Leave me alone. I don't need anyone, let alone you.")
("Yes you do, else you wouldn't have stopped running.")
("Bullshit.") I bite my tongue, resisting the desire to reply caustically.
("Come on Chikorita, I know how you feel.") I expect this comment to make her react with anger. But it doesn't.
("How can you?") She sounds so bitter, distraught. And, for once, I'm caught out, I can't. I open my mouth to explain, but just end up stuttering. ("See, you can't, can you?") There is no triumph in her tone, no victory in her voice. Just hollow. Somewhere, deep in the cobwebs of my memory, recollections of the last time I tried to help scream at me that it isn't supposed to go like this.. ..
("No, I can't.") I admit honestly. ("But it doesn't mean I can't try to help.") I add, just as honestly.
("Doesn't mean you can help though.") She turns away from me, fresh tears promising to fall. I study the form of pure desolation with a feeling of helplessness. I don't know what to say. But I feel I have to say something.
("I do see what you mean, kinda. That was a little unfair, that you got chewed out when Pikachu insulted you first.") The little light in the corner of the mind that is like an early warning system gives a precautionary flash, like the sort that warns a burglar that opening this door would be a really bad, if not a two years imprisonment and one hundred hours community service type mistake. But for once I ignore it. I hate to see someone upset, and I'll do just about anything to bring them around. Sometimes, even lie.. .. ("I think that Ash and Pikachu should apologise. You got frustrated because you were wound up by them, and then taken down because you said something out of anger.") I don't really. The stress and injury the last incident caused to both Ash and Pikachu were really beyond reason for the cause, and using it as a taunt is as effective as a crowbar to open the nailed down hatches caging censored thoughts.
("Really?!") Lifting her head and eyeing me with a wet yet piercing look, trying to verify my proclamation of support. ("So, you'd tell Pikachu that she was being unfair?") I nod mutely. And regret doing so.
("But don't you think you might be responsible at all?") A look of scorn greets my suggestion. Obviously not.
("You said so yourself, it was her fault.") Chikorita turns the tables on me almost innocently, just defying me to revoke my words. And I can't, I can't. I can't slice the confidence she's gained by these words I've spoken, however naive it must be.
("Yeah, I suppose it was.") The hesitancy in my tone doesn't dishearten her a jot. She instantly seems to have regained a degree of her vibrancy, effervescence vacant until she felt someone at her side. Maybe it isn't purely childishness that imposes her choice of isolation, but also a lack of self-belief, an idea that her point of view is faulty until it is supported by someone else.
("Right. But, uh...") She glances at me, nervous once again. ("I don't know if I'm ready, yet, to go back.") The timid comment, added to by a quiet sniffle, means she doesn't even have to ask. I've always had a soft spot for Chikorita, and there is no way I'm going to leave her in distress.
("I'll stay with you, just as long as you want me to.") In emphasis I snuggle against her, and feel her relax. Okay, I did it the hard way, but mission accomplished. Or by taking a side have I let myself in for mission impossible? Well, no point worrying about it now, I think I'll just relax. Snuggled warmly with Chikorita, on a gorgeous afternoon, in the beguiling shade of the horse chestnut tree.
"I love you too." I know that Misty is off in some dreamland and she won't hear me, but I have to say it, as if to confirm it to the world, even to declare what I have known for so long to myself. For a fleeting moment, it's as if there is nothing else, just me and the girl lain limp in my grasp. Her eyes shadowed through illness, face pale and dull, hair lank, without its usual glowing lustre. Yet to me, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.
"Ash.. ..Ash?" I ease out of my daze at the sound of a voice calling me. "Hel-lo? Is there something wrong?" My sight travels past Pikachu, who is looking over her shoulder with an expression of disgust, up to Hazel, stood in the entrance. It's at this point I realise I have tears creeping down my face, and I dash them away angrily. It's not the fact that Hazel is seeing me cry that is causing something within me to burn brightly, but the fact that for a far too brief time, I felt like I was in a perfect moment. Frozen by bliss, cast in gold. And I hear something snap. My temper.
"Jesus Hazel, haven't you ever learnt to knock?!" She looks taken aback for a fraction, before her normal face drops into position.
"Sheez, pardon me. After all, everyone knocks when they're coming into their own room, don't they?" She's got a point. But it doesn't make me any more reasonable.
"Didn't you ever learn to respect anyone's privacy?" In front of Hazel I see Pikachu give me a definite shake of the head in warning. I ignore it.
"Nope."
"Well think a little more in future, got it?" The passion, and frustration running through my veins is turning to boiling lava. I want to kick myself for getting stupidly worked up, but I want to kick something else first.
"A fat lot of thanks for someone who was checking you were okay a few seconds back."
"Well I'm fine. Thank you for asking."
"I didn't come in here to get my head bitten off! If you wanted some peace to give Misty a good once-over you should've stuck a sign on the door. 'Do not enter, make-out in progress, call by later to change sheets...'" I let Misty's head fall to the pillow and spring to my feet.
"Shut up." She eyes me warily, but doesn't.
"You started this mess, just because I saw you crying, and interrupted a little romantic snuggling, although it looks like the evil queen has gotten so excited she's passed out." That's it. I'm face to face with her in a heartbeat. I'd never hit her, not even in this temper, I would never, never do that. But soon as I get close, her eyes have changed, like she's expecting me to. They're now wide as a startled fawn's, brimming with terror. In a flash she turns as if to run, but I instinctively grasp her thin shoulder. Gently.
"Let me go, please." Her calm tone is betrayed by the leaf-like shaking of her body, and the concealed tremor still seeping through the coat of polish on her voice. But she doesn't pull away, frozen by the contact.
"Hazel, listen.. ..I'm sorry, I lost my temper, but I wouldn't hurt you, ever. You do know that, don't you?" Silence. "Don't you?" A shrug.
"Why should I? I hardly know you." But she still doesn't pull away.
"Because I'm your friend, aren't I?"
".....Maybe....." Inwardly I let out a gasp of relief that I didn't know I was holding. If she'd let her stubbornness hold out and said no.....
"So can't you let me apologise properly?" Again, the nervous pause.
".....I guess....." I sigh audibly, and drop my hand from her shoulder, half expecting her to run for the door. But she doesn't move, still not looking at me.
"I'll put the kettle on first, want a cup of tea? Or, should I say coffee, five sugars?" Not waiting for an answer I pace over to the kettle perched on the table with the television in the corner of the room, and weigh it. Plenty of water left. I plug it into the wall socket and turn it on, before turning around again. Pikachu is still watching Hazel silently, and Hazel is still seemingly studying the inside of the door. She's not fooling me into believing she's playing it cool. Right about now she's trying to tie together a few scraps of composure so she can keep herself from breaking down. The hunched shoulders, the unsteady breathing, the nervously flexing fingers, they all give it away. Okay, cups next. In the bathroom, by the sink, after being washed. Past Hazel. Well, it'll give her a reason to get out of sight for a bit, and gather herself. "Hazel, the cups are in the sink, could you get them for me?"
"Sure." She moves off to one side into the bathroom, and I hear the door bump against its frame as she shuts it. Not properly, since the frame is still broken, but the decision is still noted. I don't blame her from wanting a bit of privacy while she collects herself.
("What was that about?") Pikachu mutters as I sit next to her on the bed, listening to the sound of water running through the wall of the bathroom just behind us.
"I'm getting the real feeling that there is something Hazel isn't telling us. And not something superficial either." She shakes her head, indicating that wasn't what she meant.
("No, I mean you. Going ballistic like that. She was only checking how you were.") How to answer? There's every reason, but at the same time there's none.
"It was, it was just, I....."
("Ash, come on, admit it to me, at least. You would never have been this upset if it hadn't been the fact that you had Misty in your arms..") I'm still reluctant to proclaim it, but I nod nonetheless.
"I was stunned. But just when I was letting the feeling seep into me, the fact she loves me, she came in and shattered the moment." Regret seeps into my being. Lots of little incidents are queuing up for attention, from not being able to tell Misty I love her while she could still hear me, to snapping at Hazel. And a thousand things in between.
("That was a little harsh.") I decide to bite back.
"How would you have felt if someone had pulled you away three years ago?" I free my wallet from my pocket, and the picture from within, gesturing to it. Amidst the chaos surrounding me in the foreground, Pikachu is clearly visible and just as clearly in transports of delight. "You'd only been missing me for a couple of months. Imagine it had been years, that little special something in your life you've missed had suddenly and unexpectedly come back to you. Then, someone had thrown a wet blanket over the whole thing before you could blink." I see her falter. But the ire of the last few weeks is still burning, and I push the point. "Plus, I think I've had enough on my plate recently to be forgiven blowing off a little steam." Her black-tipped buttercup shaded ears flatten out of remorse. Guilt for starting that little incident with Chikorita earlier, plus a hundred minor offences over recent times.
("I think I see what you mean.") It's as close to an apology I think I will get from her. A creaking signals the door of the bathroom opening, and Hazel emerges, eyes the tone of her name rimmed by the faintest taint of pink.
"Clean cups." I won't insult her by telling her I know they were clean already, since I did them at lunch. I just take them wordlessly, and get up to see to the kettle which is just a few wisps of steam from boiling. The teaspoon I use to shovel coffee, hot chocolate and sugar into the three cups isn't clean, but I don't really mind.
"So, coffee no sugar for Pikachu, Hot chocolate double strength for me, and coffee five sugars for Hazel....." Murmuring under my breath isn't necessary, but it gives me the chance to think. I need to get the line of questioning away from me, and back onto Hazel. My little complaints aren't important, but trying to figure her out is. The one lasting memory lingering in my thoughts is the way she was paralysed the moment I touched her shoulder.....
("Ash, are you going to stir those to death or what?") Pikachu knocks me out of my musings, to find that I've poured out the water, added milk, and having stirred the coffees I'm currently stirring my own drink relentlessly. I mutely put the spoon down and take the drinks over to the bed, where Hazel has seated herself alongside Pikachu, a bland expression written over her features.
"Drinks. Enjoy." I state just as blandly as Pikachu shifts over and I sit down between them both, the mattress sagging with the weight, forming a tired v-shape with me in the in the middle. The slope tilts Hazel towards me, and she almost becomes statue-esque as her bare shoulder brushes mine.
"Thanks." She slides slightly away so she's out of contact, and takes a sip of her drink with a fluid sigh.
"So, I think I have an apology to make to you......" I wait for a reaction, and seeing none, I continue. "I'm sorry, it's unlike me to lose my temper. I've been a bit pressured recently, what with Misty and....." I realise that I'm about to incriminate her, so I change tack. "Life has kinda built up. Pikachu and Chikorita had a bust up only minutes ago, and Misty is unwell, so I'm a little upset." Still she's silent, slurping at the cooling drink. "But honestly, I would never have struck you, Hazel. Never, ever." Her hands cradling the cup drop to her knees, and she stares into the depths of the brown liquid in it.
"How can I be sure?" The reply I'd hoped for, she's opened herself up completely.
"Why are you so determined to doubt me?" She twitches barely noticeably, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't like the question.
"I told you before, enough people have screwed me over for me to not trust easily."
"Like who?"
"I told you when I first met you, there were lots who doubted me when I first left. They all weren't worth my trust, and I hardly know you. Why should you be different?" I feel a smile tug on my mouth, but I fight it off. Her defensive tone is asking her more questions than me.
"You say that, but you've followed me for almost a fortnight, and you're here in a room with me sat beside you with no way of protecting yourself. Hazel, I know you trust me, and I know I'm worth the trust. But why don't you trust me that little bit more?" I don't tell her what it is I hope she's not saying, praying she'll tell me herself.
"There's nothing really to trust you with. Sure I've got secrets.....but it's not as if they're unusual."
"Okay. But do you feel like you can rely on me? Please, be honest." She's quiet, which gives me time to think again. Her silences and pauses aren't quiet really, they're like the screeching tyres of a sliding car, with the same sense of a desperate fight to regain full control. She's young, and although she's built a wall around her, she's aching to get out of her self- imposed prison. It's clear to me now that whatever it is she's locked in, it's big. And it's not going away like she maybe hoped.
"I think I do, maybe with a little more time." It's like the mouse edging towards the cheese, the trap it may or may not be part of becoming less threatening as the cheese grows yet more tempting. If only I had a way to prove to her there isn't a catch.....
("Do you want another cup?") Damn it Pikachu! The delicate atmosphere building up shatters, and my chance is gone.
"No, I'm okay." She slides away from me and plonks the cup down on a table, going from timid to cocky in less time than it takes to go nought to sixty in a Ferrari. "'sides, I want to try on a few new outfits I picked up today." New outfits?
"Where did you get them?"
"Down the road. Got them fairly cheap. Fancy giving me an opinion? Oh, but not on the lingerie, so keep your mind off it." She's off into the bathroom with her bag with startling speed. I wait for the door to bump the frame, and soon as it does, I round on Pikachu. "Pillock! What did you go and bump in for?"
("What? I wasn't interrupting was I? I was just daydreaming when I realised my drink was finished, and I was only wondering if you wanted some more.") My glare softens at her obvious confusion.
"Well, it's okay. I'll get more chances. As long as I get her alone." Ignoring her confusion changing to puzzlement, I decide to make another drink. No point in worrying about anything now. Except, that is, Chikorita and Cyndaquil. Where on earth have they got to?
I've been in this field for what seems like an eternity now. I feel like I've seen it before. Something about it is familiar. That's it, I was brought up here. From so small I could barely see above the short grass lining the burrow. The first time I saw the sky. I knew I was supposed to stay out of sight, my parents had told me something like that, but I just crept up to the light that had dazzled me for what could have been forever, just through curiosity. And saw my world was more than a dark little hole. I couldn't have been more than a few weeks old. But I still think I somehow grasped the sheer size of life, just by seeing that scene. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the intensity of the light, something beyond my dreams crept into focus. A field. Stretching out far beyond my view, with every colour I could imagine. Lurid shades, grass and flowers rippling in a gentle breeze, ocean-like. I could have drowned in it too, lost myself in delight and then found I had no idea where I was. I was poised to dash off and play with a daisy, but I looked up. Until now, my life was enclosed within a few dank inches, crowded and suffocating to me. I guess that was why I was the first to break out, and see what greeted me. And all I could do was stare at the sky. There were no words that came to my mind. Just blind joy. I couldn't move, couldn't make a sound. So much, too much for me to understand. No boundaries, no limits. Blue from horizon to horizon. And almost directly above me a shining light so bright that it hurt. And the air, the clear, dry, sweet air, tasting like honey from heaven and dancing with life. How long I stood paralysed I couldn't say. Eventually my mother returned from wherever she had gone, and scolded me for leaving sanctuary. Even then I wanted to say "That is sanctuary? So is this heaven?" but I couldn't, I was far too young to articulate the searing bitterness, regret that I would have to return to the cramped, dirty cell that imprisoned me while I knew what could be. I was even too young to understand why she said I was too young. I always resented her for that, until I left as soon as I was able to. Now, I'm backing away down the tunnel, but still staring at that light as the world grows darker, and I feel a few drips of condensation spatter on my head. Still gazing wistfully up at the light which is outlining the figure of my mother, watching me retreat, as it shrinks to a mere pinprick. As it finally passes from my sight, the figure seems to almost look human...
("Chikorita, wake UP!") Cyndaquil's shout shocks me into consciousness, and I find myself looking at his concerned face from only inches away.
("What?!") I roll onto my belly and get up as "what" very quickly becomes "uh-oh". I think that we might have dozed off a little. It seems that the feeling of wetness in my dream wasn't just my imagination. Neither was the increasing darkness. Since the sky is now obscured, and it seems to be late evening. And it's raining. With intent to piss down, those clouds mean business.
("I think we had better get back! The storm has broken sooner than I thought!") As Cyndaquil speaks the rain seems to try and dissuade us by doubling its intensity from light drizzle to medium shower.
("It's at least a mile back! Wouldn't it be better to stay here and wait it out?") I reply, gazing with intense dislike at the wetness outside. Yeugh, I hate being cold and soggy.
("I don't think so!") Cyndaquil shakes his head definitely.
("Why not?!") I yell back as the rain decides to up the ante and changes into steady downpour. Now gazing up at the sky I send a mental barrage of curses at the thick layer of cloud swamping it. I hate to see weather like this. The sky should be like it was on that magical morning, clear and free not choked by mist.
("Do you want to stand under a massive great tree in the middle of a thunderstorm?!") Shit, he has a point. The valley isn't that wide, but this is the only tree in sight in this part of it, and it's big. Could the mountains on either side take the hits? Maybe, but it'd be a big risk to take. And to make my mind up, an avalanche of rumbling rolls in from the distance, giving a not-so-subtle hint for us to get the hell out of here.
("Make for the path, it'll be quicker to use it than fight through the undergrowth the whole way back!") Cyndaquil screams over the growing din of the storm, the downpour making the final upgrade to tropical storm levels. He breaks for the long grass and I follow in his tracks blindly praying for the right direction. Crashing through the dense, wet shrub for what must be hours, until I end up sprawling on my partner, who has landed face-down in a puddle as the grasses part to reveal the path. I yank him upright, and he coughs up a pint of water before giving me a tearful look of thanks.
("We'd better keep going.") He nods for a moment before coughing again, and I give him a pat on the back to try and help.
("Gimmie a sec. I can't be long though, since this path'll flood pretty quick if the rain keeps up like this.") Right, I can almost see the water flowing down off the hills and into this stream, which is pretty narrow here.
"Chikorita! Cyndaquil!" A voice comes through over the hissing rain, and we both spin to look down the path. A figure comes into view, charging up the path.
("Ash!") I take off sprinting towards him, leaving Cyndaquil still spluttering in my wake.
"Thank god I've found you. This path is usually under water after a storm like this, you could've been in trouble." He pulls a pair of Pokeballs from his dark blue coat. "Come on, it'll be quicker if you get in, you won't get soaked any more either."
("Count me in.") Cyndaquil moves past me and nods, before disappearing in a pool of red light. Ash pockets his ball, and then focuses on me.
"Chikorita?" He looks puzzled as I shake my head definitely. For some reason, I don't want to go in there. Really don't. "Come on, we've got to get back! You'll get soaked if you stay outside."
("I'm soaked already. I don't want to go in there!") He crouches down to my level, depositing the ball into the recesses of his coat.
"Why?" He asks gently. I give the universal answer.
("Because.") Silence from him, then a resigned sigh.
"Okay. But will you let me carry you?" I give a quick nod. Carrying I don't mind. He reaches forward, scoops me up, and takes off down the slope, splashing through puddles where the river has encroached onto its bank as if they weren't there. I'm grateful now that I let him carry me, those flooded bits would definitely have given me trouble. After a few minutes of listening to the increasingly heavy breathing from my friend, lights come into view, and I gasp with relief. A gasp that turns into a yell as Ash steps into an unseen puddle and slips, sending him tumbling to the ground and me tumbling through the air. Luckily, I land on my feet before slipping onto my side, cushioning the fall. But I've definitely got scrapes all along my ribs and back from the rough gravel of the path. I ease myself up, wincing at the stinging from my injuries, and scurry back along the path to Ash.
("You hurt?") He pushes himself up, biting his lip.
"No, I'm fine." Liar. He's got several nicks on his face, hands and arms are bleeding from lots of cuts, and his coat is torn in places.
("Come on, let's get back, and we can clean ourselves up there.")
"We?" He eyes my left side, and looks worried.
("Sod me, you're worse off than I am. Come on, you don't have to carry me, we're nearly there.") I help him up with my vines, ignoring the nagging pain from my body complaining about its mistreatment.
"Right, let's go." We both start jogging towards the light, careful to avoid the flood spots, and ignoring the rain teeming over us both. It's actually quite soothing on my body after that fall, although I can't wait until I can get under something a little warmer. Cyndaquil would call me a plonker for staying out in this weather when I could have got in the pokeball. But the way I shudder at the thought convinces me that despite the cold and the wetness, it was worth it.
I'm starting to worry. Which is odd for me. I don't normally worry about much. But I am worried now, about several things. One, if Ash is in trouble out there on this stormy night. I tried to persuade him not to go, as much because I like his company than looking out for his safety, I'll admit. Even though he is getting a little close to the bone with me, I'm sure now he suspects something, and he's probably pretty close to right too. But with him gone, my only company is a Pikachu I can only three-quarters understand, and an unconscious Misty that I don't really get on with. Pikachu has been trying to teach me some more of her language, using a few ideas she and Ash dreamt up, and I'm delighted to find that I'm picking it up very quickly. It's not like English with loads of syllables, it's all down to subtitles in the tone and emphasis on certain parts of the words, which makes it tricky to translate into my normal tongue. As Pikachu points to a few more words from the BFG and says them slowly in her own way for me to try and grasp, a groan suggests that Misty now isn't quite as unconscious as she was.
("Sees like Misty is approaching around.") Erm, well, that's what Pikachu seemed to say to me. Right, so sees, look for similarities, could be looks, and approaching, uh, getting nearer, no, maybe coming? Yeah, that's it. Looks like Misty is coming around.
"Yeah, looks like it, doesn't it?" Pikachu turns her head from beside me, and gives me an appraising look. I grin slowly. "I'm getting better, no? Mind you, I am being taught by the best, aren't I?" She looks at me for a second longer before breaking out into a smile herself. I get the feeling that the last hour or so of her trying to teach me and my efforts to understand have broken the ice between us. She has been standoffish because of her loyalty to Misty, but I think that she's starting to realise that I'm okay. Thankfully.
"Ohhhhh, my head." Her eyes crack open, and shut quickly as the light from a lamp hits them. Looks like her flu hasn't died down. She wouldn't believe it I think, but I feel sorry for her. Nothing is worse than being in constant pain.
"Hey, how you feeling?" She re-opens her eyes to slits, and moves them to take me into focus.
"Like hell." She sweeps the room with her barely open eyes. "Where is Ash?"
"Gone out for a bit. Do you want anything?" I ask, quite nicely really.
"Well, if you're offering, I could do with some paracetamol." She must be too tired to be cutting. Either that or some miracle of acceptance has taken place.
"No problem." I head off to the bathroom, grabbing a stray cup as I go. Reaching the sink I turn the cold tap on, glancing at my reflection in the little mirror on its stand perched on the sink. I don't look too nervous, or flushed. Good. The cup now full, I pick up the paracetamol and trot back into the room.
"Thanks." Misty takes the cup and pops the pills into her mouth, downing the water after it.
"No problem." Now, an uneasy silence settles like soot. Pikachu is dozing off, and Misty is staring at the ceiling. I 'spose I should try making conversation. "Y'know, I picked myself up some new clothes at a store today."
"Mmm-hmmm."
"The old lady was nice. It seems that she doesn't get that many customers, since she seemed delighted when I bought something."
"Mmm-hmmm." She seems so bloody disinterested that she might pass out from sheer boredom. Well, I may as well keep going.
"This guy came in while I was there, looked about twenty. A bit on the big side, but kinda cute. He seemed to be her grandson, was away at university, she was delighted to see him back." Silence. Then, she painfully lifts her head off the pillow, eyes growing wide.
"Oh.....What is the date?!"
"Twenty-seventh." Her eyes almost pop out.
"Shit! It's on the eleventh! I've only got two weeks!" Eh? I watch with amused puzzlement as Misty swings her feet over the side of the bed, hauls herself rapidly to her feet, blinks slowly, and then falls backwards onto the bed again. I let a little giggle slip out as I get up, and take a look at her. Passed out. Dope, getting up too fast when you've got a fever usually leads to laying down again at twice the speed, or at least a really really bad dizzy spell. Done it myself, so I should know.
"You know, you probably won't appreciate me doing this for you, but what the hell." I lean over and grab her pyjama-clad body, and haul it around so she's laying normally on the bed, not with her head hanging over the side. "Now we're even for what you did for me last week." Even as a dead weight, she's kinda light. Maybe I overestimated her size before now. Although, when I step back and give her an appraising look, she does seem smaller than she was. Well, fevers do make people lose weight. And she says she's been on a diet for a little bit.
("No, no salmon, please...Ugh, cold, slimy fishies...") I hope that my translation of Pikachu's sleepy murmurings was wrong. If not, she could really do with a therapist. A flash of light through the window, followed by an ominous rolling rumble tells me that the weather is about to get in on the act. I get up and go to the window, noting how much darker the sky has become, and the rain spattering on the windowpane. Getting steadily heavier by the second. Just like the lady said, even if she was a little off in the timing. A few more flashes light up the street, each accompanied by an ominous growl. Where the hell is he? He's been gone a while now. I set my gaze up the street, scanning the edge of visibility with a grimace.
"Come on Ash, get moving, I don't want to have to come and find you..." In tune with my nervousness the rain just keeps on coming down harder and harder. I think I can give up on pretending to myself now, the anxious, faltering voice which gave out that plea just says it all. I trust him, maybe even love him. Love him in what way I couldn't say. But I only feel safe when he's around, and when he isn't I just count the seconds until he comes back. Trust...it's something that I've not done for a long time. Maybe never, never since my grandmother died. I've always been too scared to, since, well, since my life became what it is. Not a lot. Memories of Cerulean City wash back, this time unfought. Going over my history once again, bringing back upsetting, scary thoughts. What I hoped that, if I ran far and fast enough, I could leave behind. And at the centre of it all, the one who took advantage of me. Told me that crying was for the weak, that it was my fault that my life was where it ended up. And I accepted it. But maybe, just maybe, I was wrong to. Although questions were never appreciated either, oh, definitely not. Especially not late in the evening. And not by a nothing like me. A tool, that's all I was. A means to an end, and a vent. For anger. It's only now I realise that my sight of the street isn't only blurred by the water on the window, but also from my eyes. I reflexively swipe them away, angry with myself. But they're just replaced by more. And then the words that I believed come back to me, spoken roughly and aggressively.
"What are you crying for? Are you some sort of fucking baby?! Don't give me any shit about being sorry, as yer not! But damn well you should be, since you're the one who got me here! But crying isn't gonna help you, an' you're too goddamn weak to do anything else. So weak that you cry for nothing. If I ever see you sobbing like a pre-school kid, I'll make you feel fucking sorry for real..."
And I believed?! I believed those threats, spoken from a caustic mouth spiked with fumes? Enforced by unfeeling hands? I'm a fool, I have been for a long time. But I will change now, I will. As I take a deep breath a sob breaks out from my chest, and I let it escape unchecked, the sound covered by the roar of thunder. The tears usually erased soon as they arrived allowed to cascade down my face freely, a first sign of rebellion against the glass prison which has held me. A prison I could never see. Eyes almost sightless catch movement outside, amongst the flashes of lightning and hurling raindrops, and I try to focus. They pass beneath a streetlight and briefly become visible - Ash! And Chikorita too. Almost entering the lobby. Oh, I can't let them see me like this! I hurriedly rush to the bathroom, and wash my face clean, before dabbing it dry with a towel. Back into the main room, and down onto the bed by Pikachu, pick up the BFG...
"We're back!" The door opens and Ash splashes in, ripping his coat off as Chikorita shakes like a dog, spattering the walls and Ash with yet more water. I don't think they could be any wetter, even by jumping in the sea fully clothed.
"Geez, you looked soaked!" My voice is a little croaky, but I ignore it.
"You're telling me." He rips off his shirt, unbuckles and dumps his trousers. Then I notice the blood staining his face, and his body. Cuts, bruises, and on Chikorita too.
"What the hell happened to you?" He shakes his head ruefully.
"An unseen puddle and a gravel path." I see. He releases Cyndaquil, who looks damp but better off. Cyndaquil turns around, and looks concerned at the state of them, as well as puzzled by Chikorita's state.
"Do you want me to help you clean those up?" While I speak Chikorita nudges Ash's leg, before nodding to the bathroom. Ash nods back in understanding before speaking.
"No, we'd better get in the shower first and warm up, that'll help. But you could always give me a hand afterwards." His warm smile makes my cheeks glow, I'm glad that my face was flushed already. He takes a look at Misty. "How is she?"
"She woke up, and I gave her some paracetamol. I told her about what I did today, and then she went mad, saying something about only having two weeks, got up too fast and passed out again." He watches her for a few more moments with gentle concern.
"The exam, I forgot about it too. Well, there's not a lot we can do right now, so I'm going to take a nice hot shower with these two." He nudges the door open, and the two pokemon go in.
"Hey Ash!" I call out, as he steps through the door himself.
"Yeah?" He pokes his head back around the door. I nod to his arms, and smile.
"Make sure you don't slip, I don't want you getting hurt again." My cheeky wink accompanying the comment makes him chuckle, as he remembers the first morning we spent in this town.
"I will, thanks for your concern." He moves out of sight, and I sigh out loud. How is it a single chuckle and a smile can have such an affect on me? I don't know. But I do know I care about him. And trust him. And that is enough for now. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to tell him about my reality someday soon...
Well, that's all for now. Guess I should get back to revision ;(
Dan.
First things first, an apology for the sheer length of time this chapter has taken me. The combination of a little writer's block, a huge exam, and too much coursework. But the next chapter is in the pipeline, and shouldn't be as long in coming (hopefully ^_^;).
And once again, big thanks to Cultnirvana, without whom this would be unreadable. And to all you reviewers, luv ya all loads for taking the time. Hope I can keep on entertaining you all - fingers crossed!
Well, that's all for now, on with the show...
Where the River flows - Chapter V
Midnight, July 22nd - Tomorrow. D-day. It may be all, may be nothing. But the coin has been tossed, and all coins come down one way or the other. Now it's not tomorrow, its today. And I want it all to go away. I want it all to go away. All to go away. Just away. Out of sight. Out of mind. Out of my mind, that's where I've gone. Fuck it all. I don't know what to do. If I win, I lose. Which is more precious, me or I? But today, I, I will find my destiny.
My breathing is harsh and heavy, mouth wide open, taking great lungfuls of air as I struggle to keep up in the chase. Chikorita is quicker than I ever gave her credit for. Or maybe I'm just getting lazy. I resist the temptation to chuckle, conserving all my energy for running. This has happened before, and it was muggins here who did the hard yards then too. Not to say Ash didn't, but I had to chase her down, and talk her into listening. Ash knows that Chikorita won't listen to him when she's worked up, because she's so possessive. She ends up hysterically declaring something ridiculous, then gets upset because she's told she's wrong, and yells that Ash is being biased towards so-and-so. But I've got a knack, a way of calming people down. I am naive, yes, but only to the way of the world, politics and technicalities. I can clearly see when someone is pissed off or depressed. And then it's just being logical, saying what I think should be said when it's needed. Simple, but effective. My one weakness is the fallacy of exaggeration. Up ahead of me, the crashing of undergrowth ends, and, sensing the end of the pursuit I put on an extra spurt to catch her. And fall flat on my face as the long grass suddenly parts, removing the resistance I was leaning into. Shaking off the daze and blinking away stars, I scan the clearing. Just a patch of short grass surrounding a huge tree, it's immense canopy throwing the area into shadow. A Horse chestnut tree, I think. And deep in its cloak of shadow, huddled against the gnarled and rough trunk, a little figure. Chikorita, face buried in a soft tuft of grass at the base of the trunk, trembling silently. She is still such a child, imagining that the world will go away if you hide it from view. Barely younger than me, but still holds a mile wide streak of youthful idealism, and the way she's almost waiting for everything to go away and then for her eyes to dry before she looks up again speaks volumes. I'm afraid that I'm going to have to disappoint her.
("You can't stay there forever, you know.") I intone gently, pacing towards her. The reply is a sniffle. I keep on coming closer, taking my time. Every second I don't speak is one she has to wait to hear what I will say next. And her imagination will be running in overdrive, telling her that she can't hide, that she's already been found, and she's going to have to face the music. Now I'm beside her, and I lay down gently. So close she can hear my breathing. In, out, in, out. Just marking each moment that is passing, innocently reminding that life goes on as usual. Eventually, she snaps.
("I can try.") With a voice like a creaking gate signalling the presence of tears on her face. Not unusual.
("Can you?") I reply.
("Yes.") I decide to take the future in my hands, and push her.
("Liar.") Simple, but effective. She raises her sweet, tear-stained face and looks at me accusingly.
("I can wait as long as I want.") She irksomely snaps, scowling furiously.
("No you can't, not really. You love Ash too much to lay here until you've gone, you know that.") And I know that too, I add subconsciously. She won't. Ash is her heart. She resisted joining him, but ever since, without him she's lost, like she is now.
("Maybe...") That simple word is a give away. Suggesting restraint while opening a huge chasm of doubt.
("Yeah, and I'm a hedgehog.") She bridles, and spits her reply.
("Leave me alone. I don't need anyone, let alone you.")
("Yes you do, else you wouldn't have stopped running.")
("Bullshit.") I bite my tongue, resisting the desire to reply caustically.
("Come on Chikorita, I know how you feel.") I expect this comment to make her react with anger. But it doesn't.
("How can you?") She sounds so bitter, distraught. And, for once, I'm caught out, I can't. I open my mouth to explain, but just end up stuttering. ("See, you can't, can you?") There is no triumph in her tone, no victory in her voice. Just hollow. Somewhere, deep in the cobwebs of my memory, recollections of the last time I tried to help scream at me that it isn't supposed to go like this.. ..
("No, I can't.") I admit honestly. ("But it doesn't mean I can't try to help.") I add, just as honestly.
("Doesn't mean you can help though.") She turns away from me, fresh tears promising to fall. I study the form of pure desolation with a feeling of helplessness. I don't know what to say. But I feel I have to say something.
("I do see what you mean, kinda. That was a little unfair, that you got chewed out when Pikachu insulted you first.") The little light in the corner of the mind that is like an early warning system gives a precautionary flash, like the sort that warns a burglar that opening this door would be a really bad, if not a two years imprisonment and one hundred hours community service type mistake. But for once I ignore it. I hate to see someone upset, and I'll do just about anything to bring them around. Sometimes, even lie.. .. ("I think that Ash and Pikachu should apologise. You got frustrated because you were wound up by them, and then taken down because you said something out of anger.") I don't really. The stress and injury the last incident caused to both Ash and Pikachu were really beyond reason for the cause, and using it as a taunt is as effective as a crowbar to open the nailed down hatches caging censored thoughts.
("Really?!") Lifting her head and eyeing me with a wet yet piercing look, trying to verify my proclamation of support. ("So, you'd tell Pikachu that she was being unfair?") I nod mutely. And regret doing so.
("But don't you think you might be responsible at all?") A look of scorn greets my suggestion. Obviously not.
("You said so yourself, it was her fault.") Chikorita turns the tables on me almost innocently, just defying me to revoke my words. And I can't, I can't. I can't slice the confidence she's gained by these words I've spoken, however naive it must be.
("Yeah, I suppose it was.") The hesitancy in my tone doesn't dishearten her a jot. She instantly seems to have regained a degree of her vibrancy, effervescence vacant until she felt someone at her side. Maybe it isn't purely childishness that imposes her choice of isolation, but also a lack of self-belief, an idea that her point of view is faulty until it is supported by someone else.
("Right. But, uh...") She glances at me, nervous once again. ("I don't know if I'm ready, yet, to go back.") The timid comment, added to by a quiet sniffle, means she doesn't even have to ask. I've always had a soft spot for Chikorita, and there is no way I'm going to leave her in distress.
("I'll stay with you, just as long as you want me to.") In emphasis I snuggle against her, and feel her relax. Okay, I did it the hard way, but mission accomplished. Or by taking a side have I let myself in for mission impossible? Well, no point worrying about it now, I think I'll just relax. Snuggled warmly with Chikorita, on a gorgeous afternoon, in the beguiling shade of the horse chestnut tree.
"I love you too." I know that Misty is off in some dreamland and she won't hear me, but I have to say it, as if to confirm it to the world, even to declare what I have known for so long to myself. For a fleeting moment, it's as if there is nothing else, just me and the girl lain limp in my grasp. Her eyes shadowed through illness, face pale and dull, hair lank, without its usual glowing lustre. Yet to me, she is the most beautiful thing I have ever witnessed.
"Ash.. ..Ash?" I ease out of my daze at the sound of a voice calling me. "Hel-lo? Is there something wrong?" My sight travels past Pikachu, who is looking over her shoulder with an expression of disgust, up to Hazel, stood in the entrance. It's at this point I realise I have tears creeping down my face, and I dash them away angrily. It's not the fact that Hazel is seeing me cry that is causing something within me to burn brightly, but the fact that for a far too brief time, I felt like I was in a perfect moment. Frozen by bliss, cast in gold. And I hear something snap. My temper.
"Jesus Hazel, haven't you ever learnt to knock?!" She looks taken aback for a fraction, before her normal face drops into position.
"Sheez, pardon me. After all, everyone knocks when they're coming into their own room, don't they?" She's got a point. But it doesn't make me any more reasonable.
"Didn't you ever learn to respect anyone's privacy?" In front of Hazel I see Pikachu give me a definite shake of the head in warning. I ignore it.
"Nope."
"Well think a little more in future, got it?" The passion, and frustration running through my veins is turning to boiling lava. I want to kick myself for getting stupidly worked up, but I want to kick something else first.
"A fat lot of thanks for someone who was checking you were okay a few seconds back."
"Well I'm fine. Thank you for asking."
"I didn't come in here to get my head bitten off! If you wanted some peace to give Misty a good once-over you should've stuck a sign on the door. 'Do not enter, make-out in progress, call by later to change sheets...'" I let Misty's head fall to the pillow and spring to my feet.
"Shut up." She eyes me warily, but doesn't.
"You started this mess, just because I saw you crying, and interrupted a little romantic snuggling, although it looks like the evil queen has gotten so excited she's passed out." That's it. I'm face to face with her in a heartbeat. I'd never hit her, not even in this temper, I would never, never do that. But soon as I get close, her eyes have changed, like she's expecting me to. They're now wide as a startled fawn's, brimming with terror. In a flash she turns as if to run, but I instinctively grasp her thin shoulder. Gently.
"Let me go, please." Her calm tone is betrayed by the leaf-like shaking of her body, and the concealed tremor still seeping through the coat of polish on her voice. But she doesn't pull away, frozen by the contact.
"Hazel, listen.. ..I'm sorry, I lost my temper, but I wouldn't hurt you, ever. You do know that, don't you?" Silence. "Don't you?" A shrug.
"Why should I? I hardly know you." But she still doesn't pull away.
"Because I'm your friend, aren't I?"
".....Maybe....." Inwardly I let out a gasp of relief that I didn't know I was holding. If she'd let her stubbornness hold out and said no.....
"So can't you let me apologise properly?" Again, the nervous pause.
".....I guess....." I sigh audibly, and drop my hand from her shoulder, half expecting her to run for the door. But she doesn't move, still not looking at me.
"I'll put the kettle on first, want a cup of tea? Or, should I say coffee, five sugars?" Not waiting for an answer I pace over to the kettle perched on the table with the television in the corner of the room, and weigh it. Plenty of water left. I plug it into the wall socket and turn it on, before turning around again. Pikachu is still watching Hazel silently, and Hazel is still seemingly studying the inside of the door. She's not fooling me into believing she's playing it cool. Right about now she's trying to tie together a few scraps of composure so she can keep herself from breaking down. The hunched shoulders, the unsteady breathing, the nervously flexing fingers, they all give it away. Okay, cups next. In the bathroom, by the sink, after being washed. Past Hazel. Well, it'll give her a reason to get out of sight for a bit, and gather herself. "Hazel, the cups are in the sink, could you get them for me?"
"Sure." She moves off to one side into the bathroom, and I hear the door bump against its frame as she shuts it. Not properly, since the frame is still broken, but the decision is still noted. I don't blame her from wanting a bit of privacy while she collects herself.
("What was that about?") Pikachu mutters as I sit next to her on the bed, listening to the sound of water running through the wall of the bathroom just behind us.
"I'm getting the real feeling that there is something Hazel isn't telling us. And not something superficial either." She shakes her head, indicating that wasn't what she meant.
("No, I mean you. Going ballistic like that. She was only checking how you were.") How to answer? There's every reason, but at the same time there's none.
"It was, it was just, I....."
("Ash, come on, admit it to me, at least. You would never have been this upset if it hadn't been the fact that you had Misty in your arms..") I'm still reluctant to proclaim it, but I nod nonetheless.
"I was stunned. But just when I was letting the feeling seep into me, the fact she loves me, she came in and shattered the moment." Regret seeps into my being. Lots of little incidents are queuing up for attention, from not being able to tell Misty I love her while she could still hear me, to snapping at Hazel. And a thousand things in between.
("That was a little harsh.") I decide to bite back.
"How would you have felt if someone had pulled you away three years ago?" I free my wallet from my pocket, and the picture from within, gesturing to it. Amidst the chaos surrounding me in the foreground, Pikachu is clearly visible and just as clearly in transports of delight. "You'd only been missing me for a couple of months. Imagine it had been years, that little special something in your life you've missed had suddenly and unexpectedly come back to you. Then, someone had thrown a wet blanket over the whole thing before you could blink." I see her falter. But the ire of the last few weeks is still burning, and I push the point. "Plus, I think I've had enough on my plate recently to be forgiven blowing off a little steam." Her black-tipped buttercup shaded ears flatten out of remorse. Guilt for starting that little incident with Chikorita earlier, plus a hundred minor offences over recent times.
("I think I see what you mean.") It's as close to an apology I think I will get from her. A creaking signals the door of the bathroom opening, and Hazel emerges, eyes the tone of her name rimmed by the faintest taint of pink.
"Clean cups." I won't insult her by telling her I know they were clean already, since I did them at lunch. I just take them wordlessly, and get up to see to the kettle which is just a few wisps of steam from boiling. The teaspoon I use to shovel coffee, hot chocolate and sugar into the three cups isn't clean, but I don't really mind.
"So, coffee no sugar for Pikachu, Hot chocolate double strength for me, and coffee five sugars for Hazel....." Murmuring under my breath isn't necessary, but it gives me the chance to think. I need to get the line of questioning away from me, and back onto Hazel. My little complaints aren't important, but trying to figure her out is. The one lasting memory lingering in my thoughts is the way she was paralysed the moment I touched her shoulder.....
("Ash, are you going to stir those to death or what?") Pikachu knocks me out of my musings, to find that I've poured out the water, added milk, and having stirred the coffees I'm currently stirring my own drink relentlessly. I mutely put the spoon down and take the drinks over to the bed, where Hazel has seated herself alongside Pikachu, a bland expression written over her features.
"Drinks. Enjoy." I state just as blandly as Pikachu shifts over and I sit down between them both, the mattress sagging with the weight, forming a tired v-shape with me in the in the middle. The slope tilts Hazel towards me, and she almost becomes statue-esque as her bare shoulder brushes mine.
"Thanks." She slides slightly away so she's out of contact, and takes a sip of her drink with a fluid sigh.
"So, I think I have an apology to make to you......" I wait for a reaction, and seeing none, I continue. "I'm sorry, it's unlike me to lose my temper. I've been a bit pressured recently, what with Misty and....." I realise that I'm about to incriminate her, so I change tack. "Life has kinda built up. Pikachu and Chikorita had a bust up only minutes ago, and Misty is unwell, so I'm a little upset." Still she's silent, slurping at the cooling drink. "But honestly, I would never have struck you, Hazel. Never, ever." Her hands cradling the cup drop to her knees, and she stares into the depths of the brown liquid in it.
"How can I be sure?" The reply I'd hoped for, she's opened herself up completely.
"Why are you so determined to doubt me?" She twitches barely noticeably, but it's enough to tell me she doesn't like the question.
"I told you before, enough people have screwed me over for me to not trust easily."
"Like who?"
"I told you when I first met you, there were lots who doubted me when I first left. They all weren't worth my trust, and I hardly know you. Why should you be different?" I feel a smile tug on my mouth, but I fight it off. Her defensive tone is asking her more questions than me.
"You say that, but you've followed me for almost a fortnight, and you're here in a room with me sat beside you with no way of protecting yourself. Hazel, I know you trust me, and I know I'm worth the trust. But why don't you trust me that little bit more?" I don't tell her what it is I hope she's not saying, praying she'll tell me herself.
"There's nothing really to trust you with. Sure I've got secrets.....but it's not as if they're unusual."
"Okay. But do you feel like you can rely on me? Please, be honest." She's quiet, which gives me time to think again. Her silences and pauses aren't quiet really, they're like the screeching tyres of a sliding car, with the same sense of a desperate fight to regain full control. She's young, and although she's built a wall around her, she's aching to get out of her self- imposed prison. It's clear to me now that whatever it is she's locked in, it's big. And it's not going away like she maybe hoped.
"I think I do, maybe with a little more time." It's like the mouse edging towards the cheese, the trap it may or may not be part of becoming less threatening as the cheese grows yet more tempting. If only I had a way to prove to her there isn't a catch.....
("Do you want another cup?") Damn it Pikachu! The delicate atmosphere building up shatters, and my chance is gone.
"No, I'm okay." She slides away from me and plonks the cup down on a table, going from timid to cocky in less time than it takes to go nought to sixty in a Ferrari. "'sides, I want to try on a few new outfits I picked up today." New outfits?
"Where did you get them?"
"Down the road. Got them fairly cheap. Fancy giving me an opinion? Oh, but not on the lingerie, so keep your mind off it." She's off into the bathroom with her bag with startling speed. I wait for the door to bump the frame, and soon as it does, I round on Pikachu. "Pillock! What did you go and bump in for?"
("What? I wasn't interrupting was I? I was just daydreaming when I realised my drink was finished, and I was only wondering if you wanted some more.") My glare softens at her obvious confusion.
"Well, it's okay. I'll get more chances. As long as I get her alone." Ignoring her confusion changing to puzzlement, I decide to make another drink. No point in worrying about anything now. Except, that is, Chikorita and Cyndaquil. Where on earth have they got to?
I've been in this field for what seems like an eternity now. I feel like I've seen it before. Something about it is familiar. That's it, I was brought up here. From so small I could barely see above the short grass lining the burrow. The first time I saw the sky. I knew I was supposed to stay out of sight, my parents had told me something like that, but I just crept up to the light that had dazzled me for what could have been forever, just through curiosity. And saw my world was more than a dark little hole. I couldn't have been more than a few weeks old. But I still think I somehow grasped the sheer size of life, just by seeing that scene. As my eyes slowly adjusted to the intensity of the light, something beyond my dreams crept into focus. A field. Stretching out far beyond my view, with every colour I could imagine. Lurid shades, grass and flowers rippling in a gentle breeze, ocean-like. I could have drowned in it too, lost myself in delight and then found I had no idea where I was. I was poised to dash off and play with a daisy, but I looked up. Until now, my life was enclosed within a few dank inches, crowded and suffocating to me. I guess that was why I was the first to break out, and see what greeted me. And all I could do was stare at the sky. There were no words that came to my mind. Just blind joy. I couldn't move, couldn't make a sound. So much, too much for me to understand. No boundaries, no limits. Blue from horizon to horizon. And almost directly above me a shining light so bright that it hurt. And the air, the clear, dry, sweet air, tasting like honey from heaven and dancing with life. How long I stood paralysed I couldn't say. Eventually my mother returned from wherever she had gone, and scolded me for leaving sanctuary. Even then I wanted to say "That is sanctuary? So is this heaven?" but I couldn't, I was far too young to articulate the searing bitterness, regret that I would have to return to the cramped, dirty cell that imprisoned me while I knew what could be. I was even too young to understand why she said I was too young. I always resented her for that, until I left as soon as I was able to. Now, I'm backing away down the tunnel, but still staring at that light as the world grows darker, and I feel a few drips of condensation spatter on my head. Still gazing wistfully up at the light which is outlining the figure of my mother, watching me retreat, as it shrinks to a mere pinprick. As it finally passes from my sight, the figure seems to almost look human...
("Chikorita, wake UP!") Cyndaquil's shout shocks me into consciousness, and I find myself looking at his concerned face from only inches away.
("What?!") I roll onto my belly and get up as "what" very quickly becomes "uh-oh". I think that we might have dozed off a little. It seems that the feeling of wetness in my dream wasn't just my imagination. Neither was the increasing darkness. Since the sky is now obscured, and it seems to be late evening. And it's raining. With intent to piss down, those clouds mean business.
("I think we had better get back! The storm has broken sooner than I thought!") As Cyndaquil speaks the rain seems to try and dissuade us by doubling its intensity from light drizzle to medium shower.
("It's at least a mile back! Wouldn't it be better to stay here and wait it out?") I reply, gazing with intense dislike at the wetness outside. Yeugh, I hate being cold and soggy.
("I don't think so!") Cyndaquil shakes his head definitely.
("Why not?!") I yell back as the rain decides to up the ante and changes into steady downpour. Now gazing up at the sky I send a mental barrage of curses at the thick layer of cloud swamping it. I hate to see weather like this. The sky should be like it was on that magical morning, clear and free not choked by mist.
("Do you want to stand under a massive great tree in the middle of a thunderstorm?!") Shit, he has a point. The valley isn't that wide, but this is the only tree in sight in this part of it, and it's big. Could the mountains on either side take the hits? Maybe, but it'd be a big risk to take. And to make my mind up, an avalanche of rumbling rolls in from the distance, giving a not-so-subtle hint for us to get the hell out of here.
("Make for the path, it'll be quicker to use it than fight through the undergrowth the whole way back!") Cyndaquil screams over the growing din of the storm, the downpour making the final upgrade to tropical storm levels. He breaks for the long grass and I follow in his tracks blindly praying for the right direction. Crashing through the dense, wet shrub for what must be hours, until I end up sprawling on my partner, who has landed face-down in a puddle as the grasses part to reveal the path. I yank him upright, and he coughs up a pint of water before giving me a tearful look of thanks.
("We'd better keep going.") He nods for a moment before coughing again, and I give him a pat on the back to try and help.
("Gimmie a sec. I can't be long though, since this path'll flood pretty quick if the rain keeps up like this.") Right, I can almost see the water flowing down off the hills and into this stream, which is pretty narrow here.
"Chikorita! Cyndaquil!" A voice comes through over the hissing rain, and we both spin to look down the path. A figure comes into view, charging up the path.
("Ash!") I take off sprinting towards him, leaving Cyndaquil still spluttering in my wake.
"Thank god I've found you. This path is usually under water after a storm like this, you could've been in trouble." He pulls a pair of Pokeballs from his dark blue coat. "Come on, it'll be quicker if you get in, you won't get soaked any more either."
("Count me in.") Cyndaquil moves past me and nods, before disappearing in a pool of red light. Ash pockets his ball, and then focuses on me.
"Chikorita?" He looks puzzled as I shake my head definitely. For some reason, I don't want to go in there. Really don't. "Come on, we've got to get back! You'll get soaked if you stay outside."
("I'm soaked already. I don't want to go in there!") He crouches down to my level, depositing the ball into the recesses of his coat.
"Why?" He asks gently. I give the universal answer.
("Because.") Silence from him, then a resigned sigh.
"Okay. But will you let me carry you?" I give a quick nod. Carrying I don't mind. He reaches forward, scoops me up, and takes off down the slope, splashing through puddles where the river has encroached onto its bank as if they weren't there. I'm grateful now that I let him carry me, those flooded bits would definitely have given me trouble. After a few minutes of listening to the increasingly heavy breathing from my friend, lights come into view, and I gasp with relief. A gasp that turns into a yell as Ash steps into an unseen puddle and slips, sending him tumbling to the ground and me tumbling through the air. Luckily, I land on my feet before slipping onto my side, cushioning the fall. But I've definitely got scrapes all along my ribs and back from the rough gravel of the path. I ease myself up, wincing at the stinging from my injuries, and scurry back along the path to Ash.
("You hurt?") He pushes himself up, biting his lip.
"No, I'm fine." Liar. He's got several nicks on his face, hands and arms are bleeding from lots of cuts, and his coat is torn in places.
("Come on, let's get back, and we can clean ourselves up there.")
"We?" He eyes my left side, and looks worried.
("Sod me, you're worse off than I am. Come on, you don't have to carry me, we're nearly there.") I help him up with my vines, ignoring the nagging pain from my body complaining about its mistreatment.
"Right, let's go." We both start jogging towards the light, careful to avoid the flood spots, and ignoring the rain teeming over us both. It's actually quite soothing on my body after that fall, although I can't wait until I can get under something a little warmer. Cyndaquil would call me a plonker for staying out in this weather when I could have got in the pokeball. But the way I shudder at the thought convinces me that despite the cold and the wetness, it was worth it.
I'm starting to worry. Which is odd for me. I don't normally worry about much. But I am worried now, about several things. One, if Ash is in trouble out there on this stormy night. I tried to persuade him not to go, as much because I like his company than looking out for his safety, I'll admit. Even though he is getting a little close to the bone with me, I'm sure now he suspects something, and he's probably pretty close to right too. But with him gone, my only company is a Pikachu I can only three-quarters understand, and an unconscious Misty that I don't really get on with. Pikachu has been trying to teach me some more of her language, using a few ideas she and Ash dreamt up, and I'm delighted to find that I'm picking it up very quickly. It's not like English with loads of syllables, it's all down to subtitles in the tone and emphasis on certain parts of the words, which makes it tricky to translate into my normal tongue. As Pikachu points to a few more words from the BFG and says them slowly in her own way for me to try and grasp, a groan suggests that Misty now isn't quite as unconscious as she was.
("Sees like Misty is approaching around.") Erm, well, that's what Pikachu seemed to say to me. Right, so sees, look for similarities, could be looks, and approaching, uh, getting nearer, no, maybe coming? Yeah, that's it. Looks like Misty is coming around.
"Yeah, looks like it, doesn't it?" Pikachu turns her head from beside me, and gives me an appraising look. I grin slowly. "I'm getting better, no? Mind you, I am being taught by the best, aren't I?" She looks at me for a second longer before breaking out into a smile herself. I get the feeling that the last hour or so of her trying to teach me and my efforts to understand have broken the ice between us. She has been standoffish because of her loyalty to Misty, but I think that she's starting to realise that I'm okay. Thankfully.
"Ohhhhh, my head." Her eyes crack open, and shut quickly as the light from a lamp hits them. Looks like her flu hasn't died down. She wouldn't believe it I think, but I feel sorry for her. Nothing is worse than being in constant pain.
"Hey, how you feeling?" She re-opens her eyes to slits, and moves them to take me into focus.
"Like hell." She sweeps the room with her barely open eyes. "Where is Ash?"
"Gone out for a bit. Do you want anything?" I ask, quite nicely really.
"Well, if you're offering, I could do with some paracetamol." She must be too tired to be cutting. Either that or some miracle of acceptance has taken place.
"No problem." I head off to the bathroom, grabbing a stray cup as I go. Reaching the sink I turn the cold tap on, glancing at my reflection in the little mirror on its stand perched on the sink. I don't look too nervous, or flushed. Good. The cup now full, I pick up the paracetamol and trot back into the room.
"Thanks." Misty takes the cup and pops the pills into her mouth, downing the water after it.
"No problem." Now, an uneasy silence settles like soot. Pikachu is dozing off, and Misty is staring at the ceiling. I 'spose I should try making conversation. "Y'know, I picked myself up some new clothes at a store today."
"Mmm-hmmm."
"The old lady was nice. It seems that she doesn't get that many customers, since she seemed delighted when I bought something."
"Mmm-hmmm." She seems so bloody disinterested that she might pass out from sheer boredom. Well, I may as well keep going.
"This guy came in while I was there, looked about twenty. A bit on the big side, but kinda cute. He seemed to be her grandson, was away at university, she was delighted to see him back." Silence. Then, she painfully lifts her head off the pillow, eyes growing wide.
"Oh.....What is the date?!"
"Twenty-seventh." Her eyes almost pop out.
"Shit! It's on the eleventh! I've only got two weeks!" Eh? I watch with amused puzzlement as Misty swings her feet over the side of the bed, hauls herself rapidly to her feet, blinks slowly, and then falls backwards onto the bed again. I let a little giggle slip out as I get up, and take a look at her. Passed out. Dope, getting up too fast when you've got a fever usually leads to laying down again at twice the speed, or at least a really really bad dizzy spell. Done it myself, so I should know.
"You know, you probably won't appreciate me doing this for you, but what the hell." I lean over and grab her pyjama-clad body, and haul it around so she's laying normally on the bed, not with her head hanging over the side. "Now we're even for what you did for me last week." Even as a dead weight, she's kinda light. Maybe I overestimated her size before now. Although, when I step back and give her an appraising look, she does seem smaller than she was. Well, fevers do make people lose weight. And she says she's been on a diet for a little bit.
("No, no salmon, please...Ugh, cold, slimy fishies...") I hope that my translation of Pikachu's sleepy murmurings was wrong. If not, she could really do with a therapist. A flash of light through the window, followed by an ominous rolling rumble tells me that the weather is about to get in on the act. I get up and go to the window, noting how much darker the sky has become, and the rain spattering on the windowpane. Getting steadily heavier by the second. Just like the lady said, even if she was a little off in the timing. A few more flashes light up the street, each accompanied by an ominous growl. Where the hell is he? He's been gone a while now. I set my gaze up the street, scanning the edge of visibility with a grimace.
"Come on Ash, get moving, I don't want to have to come and find you..." In tune with my nervousness the rain just keeps on coming down harder and harder. I think I can give up on pretending to myself now, the anxious, faltering voice which gave out that plea just says it all. I trust him, maybe even love him. Love him in what way I couldn't say. But I only feel safe when he's around, and when he isn't I just count the seconds until he comes back. Trust...it's something that I've not done for a long time. Maybe never, never since my grandmother died. I've always been too scared to, since, well, since my life became what it is. Not a lot. Memories of Cerulean City wash back, this time unfought. Going over my history once again, bringing back upsetting, scary thoughts. What I hoped that, if I ran far and fast enough, I could leave behind. And at the centre of it all, the one who took advantage of me. Told me that crying was for the weak, that it was my fault that my life was where it ended up. And I accepted it. But maybe, just maybe, I was wrong to. Although questions were never appreciated either, oh, definitely not. Especially not late in the evening. And not by a nothing like me. A tool, that's all I was. A means to an end, and a vent. For anger. It's only now I realise that my sight of the street isn't only blurred by the water on the window, but also from my eyes. I reflexively swipe them away, angry with myself. But they're just replaced by more. And then the words that I believed come back to me, spoken roughly and aggressively.
"What are you crying for? Are you some sort of fucking baby?! Don't give me any shit about being sorry, as yer not! But damn well you should be, since you're the one who got me here! But crying isn't gonna help you, an' you're too goddamn weak to do anything else. So weak that you cry for nothing. If I ever see you sobbing like a pre-school kid, I'll make you feel fucking sorry for real..."
And I believed?! I believed those threats, spoken from a caustic mouth spiked with fumes? Enforced by unfeeling hands? I'm a fool, I have been for a long time. But I will change now, I will. As I take a deep breath a sob breaks out from my chest, and I let it escape unchecked, the sound covered by the roar of thunder. The tears usually erased soon as they arrived allowed to cascade down my face freely, a first sign of rebellion against the glass prison which has held me. A prison I could never see. Eyes almost sightless catch movement outside, amongst the flashes of lightning and hurling raindrops, and I try to focus. They pass beneath a streetlight and briefly become visible - Ash! And Chikorita too. Almost entering the lobby. Oh, I can't let them see me like this! I hurriedly rush to the bathroom, and wash my face clean, before dabbing it dry with a towel. Back into the main room, and down onto the bed by Pikachu, pick up the BFG...
"We're back!" The door opens and Ash splashes in, ripping his coat off as Chikorita shakes like a dog, spattering the walls and Ash with yet more water. I don't think they could be any wetter, even by jumping in the sea fully clothed.
"Geez, you looked soaked!" My voice is a little croaky, but I ignore it.
"You're telling me." He rips off his shirt, unbuckles and dumps his trousers. Then I notice the blood staining his face, and his body. Cuts, bruises, and on Chikorita too.
"What the hell happened to you?" He shakes his head ruefully.
"An unseen puddle and a gravel path." I see. He releases Cyndaquil, who looks damp but better off. Cyndaquil turns around, and looks concerned at the state of them, as well as puzzled by Chikorita's state.
"Do you want me to help you clean those up?" While I speak Chikorita nudges Ash's leg, before nodding to the bathroom. Ash nods back in understanding before speaking.
"No, we'd better get in the shower first and warm up, that'll help. But you could always give me a hand afterwards." His warm smile makes my cheeks glow, I'm glad that my face was flushed already. He takes a look at Misty. "How is she?"
"She woke up, and I gave her some paracetamol. I told her about what I did today, and then she went mad, saying something about only having two weeks, got up too fast and passed out again." He watches her for a few more moments with gentle concern.
"The exam, I forgot about it too. Well, there's not a lot we can do right now, so I'm going to take a nice hot shower with these two." He nudges the door open, and the two pokemon go in.
"Hey Ash!" I call out, as he steps through the door himself.
"Yeah?" He pokes his head back around the door. I nod to his arms, and smile.
"Make sure you don't slip, I don't want you getting hurt again." My cheeky wink accompanying the comment makes him chuckle, as he remembers the first morning we spent in this town.
"I will, thanks for your concern." He moves out of sight, and I sigh out loud. How is it a single chuckle and a smile can have such an affect on me? I don't know. But I do know I care about him. And trust him. And that is enough for now. Maybe, just maybe, I'll be able to tell him about my reality someday soon...
Well, that's all for now. Guess I should get back to revision ;(
Dan.