Okay, Chapter 7. This is the first chapter I've really been building up to, I hope I've done it justice.
Big Thanks to all reviewers, and especially to Karen, who has really been a wonder. This chapter (and some future ones) are worthy of an R-rating, so that's what this story will be from now on. There will be roses, but also thorns, that's for certian.
On with the story. (Oh, and sorry for the cramped appearance in parts, for some reason whenever I've tried uploading this chapter it keeps removing the paragraphing between POV changes, so I've put a line where there is a break.)
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Where the River Flows - Chapter VII
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23rd July - Morning. A new dawn. I've watched dawn break many, many times, but it never ceases to amaze me. Yet today, as if in recognition of my inner turbulence, the world's celing is layered by wreaths of cloud, swallowed by a prohibitive blanket for as far as my eyes will see. And I know it is today, the day my life will be turned upside down. I pray to the gods, but no-one is listening. I stare to the sky, and it leaves me blind. I'm alone now, it's for me to choose.....
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I sit myself down on the floor, trying to avoid everyone's eyes, which all seem to be trained accusingly on me. But I feel hollow. Empty. It's as if I'm a tree, a tree which has been dying, slowly, slowly over the whole of my life, until now all that is left is a pathetic shell. No. That's not right either. Inside the decrepit ring of bark something festers, the things which have eaten me from my very core, always within me, never seen with my own two eyes. And now there is nothing left to support the bark which remains. It is about to crumble, to snap, disintegrate to powder fine as sand. Yet they do not know, they still cannot see past the thin veneer of cheer and bluster which makes up my façade.
"You stole him. You stole your Charmander, without any thought, without any guilt!" Misty growls her accusation, one which strikes me hard as anything which I'd gone through, from both the mouths and fists of others. And the most bruising thing is that it is partly true.
"Yes, I stole him. Happy now you've got your pound of flesh?!" My voice drops from a growl to a murmur. "But there was more thought than you'd think I was capable of, and more guilt than you have ever experienced." I don't know why I said that, I didn't want this torture to continue, I want them to leave me alone!
("But you stole from us too! We trusted you, and this is how you repay!") Chikorita screeches, slapping the ground in front of me with a vine. They know about that too, but I couldn't help it. I just couldn't…
"I couldn't help it!" The words escape me, and I know now that I've slipped out with the tide of adrenaline which runs high in moments such as these, it's swallowed me up and dragged me away. I wouldn't ever have said that if I were thinking straight.
"What do you mean you couldn't help it? Someone held a gun to your head and forced you?" Misty's voice, laced with sarcasm and almost dripping with cynicism, makes me want to scream. She has no idea how close she is to the truth, that what she sees as ridiculous is my reality.
"I had to, I had nothing." I risk a look up, and see Misty's eyes smouldering. Chikorita seems just as angry, and so does Pikachu. Cyndaquil and Ash though….something about the way they're looking at me gives me impetus to continue. "I had no towels, clothes, possessions, I've always wanted something of my own…." I bite my lip at the slip. I'm open now, vulnerable.
("Why didn't you ask us, ask to borrow some money?") Cyndaquil nudges.
"Because." I fight the urge to spill my soul, but I can just feel it slipping like sand through my exhausted fingers.
("Because what?") Pikachu asks, irritated.
"Just because." My eyes, cast to the ground, to see Misty's foot stamp in impatience.
"God damn it, Hazel! Because is not enough! It's not a reason!" Her cutting tone slashes down to the bone, I feel still colder, still more empty. But it also strikes something, a deep memory, one of thousands I'd tried to bury away…A memory of a girl's voice, almost screaming with fear…My voice…
*"Why? What did I do to you? It's not my fault you're here, you said yourself it's those people at the Gym! Why dad, please, don't hurt me, please…" He laughs, a deep, dirty, sinful laugh.
"Why? They never gave me a reason. They just said because. That's your answer too. Because. Because you didn't do all your chores. Because you didn't get enough things today. Because it's you that cost me my life. Just because."*
"It's the only reason I ever recieved! Don't you think I deserved more? Perhaps then I might have known why I've had such a shit life." The chill stalling my soul is suddenly replaced by a primal fire, that of unrestrained anger.
"What?!" Misty barks, still riding on her own fury. It just incenses me more, to the point a scream is just waiting to erupt from my mouth, my hands balling into tight fists.
"And all I've ever known is that it's your fault. You." Snarled from the very depths of my heart, the thing I've longed to say breaks free. Fury gives me the strength to lift my head to stare her in the eye, to release what has been chained down for too long. "You! You met me, and didn't even recognise my name! Just because I'm one of the little casualties of your decadence, buried in some shack in some slum in some part of town you never set eyes on like it's an unmarked grave!" The words break free, finally smashing through the barriers of my self-control.
"Hazel, what are you talking about?" Misty's expression has slipped to confusion, Ash's to concern. But I'm being swept yet further away from reality, it seems so insignificant.
"You! You and your fucking family! And what you did to me! You bunch of arrogant bastards!" My nails tear deep gouges into the earth, just as the hands of despair grasp my very heart with terrible force. My eyes feel sore, cheeks smouldering, throat choking.
Misty rears up like a bucking horse. "Where the hell are you coming from, speaking to me like that! I don't even know what you mean!" That's just too much for me. I shake off the clutches of sadness for just a few precious moments, spring to my feet, and lash out rattlesnake-fast. My palm makes contact with her face, and the sound of the slap seems to rebound endlessly through the trees, as if to declare the statement of my revenge to the world. I let my hand slowly drop to my side, and watch Misty's eyes fill with tears as she puts her own hand to her head, to where redness through my attack burns brightly. After a few seconds, I slump back down to the ground, concealing my expression.
"Misty! Are you okay?" I see Ash's feet move right over to Misty, and glance up to see him tilt her head gently to look at the mark. He then draws her in closely, running a hand through her hair, murmuring quietly to her. She whispers back, and he turns to face me fully. His expression makes me feel almost shameful, not flowing anger or venomous hate, but disappointment. Disappointment and something else. He moves to my side and crouches down, as I drop my face, trying to hide from, to avoid what I knew would come.
"Hazel, why?" I can hear in his voice what I'd missed from his face. Concern. Almost fatherly concern. But that alone is enough to wring a solitary tear from my eyes, this time from sorrow and regret. At what I'd never had, and that it was because of me. I shake my head, frantically scrabbling to swallow the cries filling my mouth. But then, with silken tenderness, he places a finger under my chin and tilts my face up. I desperately try to avert my eyes from his, but they are as irresistible as the sun to a flower. I swallow again, to get the control to speak again.
"..…Because I've been hurt too much not to….." With that pitiful statement, I know I've lost. Lost the battle I've won for so many years. The thing I promised I would never do. The first tiny hiccup passes my lips as Ash leans in and hugs me, and I can't fight any more. I bury my face into his neck, letting tears flow freely, whimpering, squeezing him so tightly that I want to never leave his arms. His warm, all encompassing arms, arms which seem to keep the pain away. A feeling I've never had before, of total security, of peace and love. Love…The thought pulls yet deeper cries from deep within, and I tense up, trying to fight them down.
"Come on Hazel. Let it out. You can cry to me, and I'll just keep on holding you until you're ready." With those few caring words the last of my restraint flows ghost-like through my faltering grasp, and I just fall into the swirling mass of terror, anguish, hate, despair, loss, until I can see nothing. A thousand, a million different shades and hues all blending until they just form white, the white, pure emotion which has grown and grown inside me for so long, growing so deep and cloying that I can do nothing now but float within it until it is all washed away. Washed away by my tears, running in endless rivers down my face, into Ash's shoulder, the shoulder I've needed to cry on for so long. I don't care that I look like a little child, all that matters is I'm cared for at last. And I have the trust in him to let go of my anger, explain once and for all why I am who I am. A petty thief, a cruel witch, but at the same time, the Snow White who never had a Prince to take her curse away…
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I keep on staring at nothing, trying to put off the inevitable. The last cigarette for the woman destined to die. Enjoying each and every moment before I spill my soul, to be so vulnerable, weak and pitiful. The things I tried to avoid, make a new start, as a new person. None of the weaknesses and shadows which are seeping out, as the first wisps of smoke preceding a blaze.
"Come on Hazel, you're going to have to explain. You owe it to yourself, as well as us." I refuse to make eye contact with Ash, refuse to react at all. But I can hear the gun being cocked, and held to my head. I have to bite the bullet now, or let it kill me like it did before.
"Uh, you know that I left on my thirteenth birthday, well I didn't leave on a journey. I ran away." A few faltering words, and I feel my voice die. This is so wrong, why am I saying anything?
("I think we need to know why.") Cyndaquil murmurs, shuffling over to me and putting his head on my leg, like a dog wanting it's nose rubbed. I fight the urge to react to the touch, but I can't help but twitch.
("Why did you just flinch?") Pikachu asks, spotting it. With that, everyone seems to focus in on me afresh. Even Misty, although her eyes are filled with caution. Too many stares, too many….. Unconsciously I shrink back away from them all, arms wrapping protectively across my chest. Fear flickers, hands of ice stroking my back, begging me to panic.
"Stop wasting time. Tell us, or leave us." Misty snarls, impatience and barely contained anger seeping from every pore. But this time her voice doesn't make me angry, it's as bruising as a punch. Because I used to hear that tone, and it was never long until the verbal attack became altogether more physical…
"Misty, stop. This is hard enough for her as it is." Ash steps in to defend me, while slipping a hand onto my leg. Misty's eyes register shock for the briefest moment, before softening and looking away. I glance down at Ash's hand rested feather-light on my knee, and sigh. But I don't pull away. Why? Could it be that I actually trust him? His voice breaks the silence once again, words spoken softly as a petal dancing on the summer breeze. "I guess this is very difficult. But can't you trust us? Trust .….me?" I let my suddenly hazy gaze travel up his arm, and to his face. The one face that I feel I love.
"Maybe, just maybe you..…" I breathe, before taking a long, steadying gulp of air. It's inevitable, I'm going to cry, I know it.
"Then tell me, don't kill yourself with regrets..…" I bite my lower lip as a solitary bead of water runs down my cheek, but hold myself together. This pain, it's swollen inside me, like an unwanted pregnancy. And the waters are about to break.
"I'll try - I will." Another deep shuddering breath, and Ash moves even closer to me, placing his other arm around my shoulders. He makes me so warm, safe. Safe enough to try and explain. "I-I said I ran away. But I had to. I had no choice!" Bile rises in my throat along with the acrid taste of memories. "My parents, well, my father was a top water-type trainer. My mother wasn't married to him. She was a good friend of him, but it was a one night stand type thing. He knew I was his, and although he and my mother were not together legally through marriage, he had promised to bring me up as his daughter. Or, that's what my mother told me. I rarely saw him when I was really little, he was always off on expeditions. But then, I was about two and a half, when it happened." I grit my teeth together, and look at Misty. "Does the name Darren John, or DJ Thornton mean anything to you?" She gives me a quick glare, but seems to think for a moment. And then her expression changes. To shock.
"You mean…" I nod curtly, staring at the floor once more.
"Yes, I'm his daughter. The very same one that was used like some shameful picture for blackmail….." I choke off a sob as the rage within me builds again, like a contraction which makes me want to vomit. Ash and Cyndaquil both make gentle calming noises, cooling me down a little.
("What do you mean by that?") Chikorita looks puzzled, switching looks from Misty to me, and back. I glance up myself, and see Misty guiltily avoiding my sight. She remembers now.
"The previous Cerulean gym leader had retired. And it was between my father and the Williams family for the next ownership. And, my father was more qualified, and more talented than Misty's parents. But then the "honourable" Williams family….." I almost spit at the words "…..Found out that my father had a dirty little secret. Me. An illegitimate child. Now, Pokemon gym leaders are supposed to be upstanding examples to the community. But there was no way that my father could possibly be an upstanding member of the city if he had me, was there? And of course, the Williams family took it upon themselves to report their discovery to the league authorities, it being the right and honest thing to do, and had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that it left them clear to inherit the gym." I reach up and angrily swipe away a few tears that have leaked onto my face, so that I can see Misty clearly. "The Williams family knew quite well that I was being brought up by loving parents in a good relationship, but that didn't matter shit to them, so long as they got the gym. My dad had put in a lot of work and money into promoting himself as the next gym leader, so he ended up broke. He got shovelled into some little flat in a no-go part of town, and my mother moved in with him. But before long she got ill, and just wasted away. Kidney disease. Couldn't afford private treatment, waiting lists too long, prognosis too bad. Gone just like that, before I was four…" A quite sob erupts from my throat, and I let my body sag down again. Anguish of indescribable intensity rips at every part of me, with potency I can't control. As Ash again puts both his arms around me I cuddle into his grasp shamelessly, allowing yet more long withheld tears to flow. I stay that way, wailing like a lost child for what could be weeks or seconds, cocooned by his embrace, for once feeling safe to cry. Gradually I become aware of his fingers running through my hair as we rock smoothly, and I ease back from his shoulder, now not bothering to wipe away the wetness on my face. He studies me carefully, and I can just sense the eyes of everyone else around the fire doing the same. Finally he seems satisfied, and gives me a tiny smile.
"Can you go on?" I hesitate for a moment, torn between the desire to retreat and hide and to finish the trial. It's tempting to take my life back into my hands and bury it in the sand again, but somehow I feel lighter. And I know that just one final push could rid myself of this burden for good. In this defining moment between fear and desire, desire won.
"Yes." My voice is barely a croak, but it carries with it great certainty.
("So, what happened next?") Pikachu nudges, reminding me of their presence. For another brief moment I consider closing up once more, but manage to fight it. Instead, I swallow back the lump in my throat, and continue in a shaky voice.
"Well, soon as my mum died, my dad hit the bottle. Really hard. He at first said he was drinking to forget, but it just seemed to make him remember. I was only little, but I knew something was really wrong. My grandmother, that being my mum's mother, helped us along, she somehow got over the death well and held my dad together for a while. But then she passed away too, when I was about seven. It was the same thing as my mother, some sort of hereditary thing, I'd been tested and came up clean. But it reminded my dad of how he'd lost mum, and he gave up. Sold his Pokemon for money, and just bought spirits with it. Drank himself silly." I feel more tears begin to spill now, but out of anger. Anger at my father, and the life he gave me. My voice rises a little, gaining a sharp edge. "I had to do all the work around the house, barely got to school. My friends all left me. But then he told me, one day, to go to the nearest supermarket and get him a bottle of drink. I asked him how, as we had barely any money. He just laughed and told me to improvise. I asked him if he meant steal, and he said yes. I said no. But then, then…" I find my tone cracking up. As soon as I say any more, that's it.
("Go on, you're doing really well.") Cyndaquil murmurs, moving cat-like onto my lap, dark eyes begging me silently to continue. I'm amazed to find myself relax as he does. Normally I'm uncomfortable with any sort of physical contact. Contact from a touch to a grasp to more. I know why, and I think it's time they know why.
"He grabbed me by the wrist. And asked me to repeat what I had said....."
**"I said no. I don't want to steal." He looked at me, and blinked slowly.
"There's no choice about it. We ain't got no money, and I ain't got no drink. Unless you can get me some money, you're gonna have to steal me some drink."**
Ash looks at me carefully. "He asked you to steal for him?" I nod mutely.
".....I remember that I could hear a tone in his voice, one that he'd rarely used before. Normally, it was one he'd used when I'd been stupid. but as far as I could see, he was the stupid one. So, like a kid does, I decided to tell him....."
**"No, I won't. You drink all the time, you should stop." Those brown eyes of his, which had slept in a drowned stupor for a long, long time, seemed to take a sudden focus on me. That didn't scare me this time, but from then on it would. Scare me beyond words.....
"I want a drink, and you're gonna get me one. Understand?"**
".....His husky voice, rubbed raw by the alcohol that had scorched it for too long, grew dark. I still didn't pick it up." I hear Chikorita take a deep breath.
("I don't like the way that this is going.....") Cyndaquil shakes his head in agreement.
("Nor do I.") He looks up to me, eyes sympathetic. ("What did you do?") I chuckle hollowly in response.
"As far as I was concerned, I was going to put my foot down. But that was so foolish, looking back on it. If I had just agreed, gone and stolen his drink, he might not have found another vent for his anger....."
**"I won't. I won't steal, it's wrong." Still holding onto my innocence, but it wasn't going to last for long.
"You will." He pulls himself up to sit on the decrepit sofa he seems to have lain on forever. "I'll make you." I humph, looking to the ceiling.
"No you won't."**
".....But I didn't. And then, he got angry. Very angry, very quickly. He got out of his chair, and grabbed me by both of my wrists with just one hand. Tight. So tight it brought tears to my eyes, I thought my hands were going to be wrenched right off....." I can hear a collective gasp from everyone, and my throat feels so tight it suffocates. But I want to go on.
**"Yeah, I will." I was transfixed by his stare, and felt fear flitter into my mind. But I didn't see it. I didn't see his spare arm moving back, nor his hand close, not until his fist connected with my cheek. I sprawled to the ground, utterly shocked. I wet myself, lost control, I just couldn't do anything. Didn't know how to react.**
I realise that I'm weeping quietly, and Ash wraps his arms around me snugly. I accept his shoulder, letting the river of tears flow.
"He hit you." Misty mutters, seemingly shocked. I don't bother to look at her, I just nod quietly, my head still embedded in Ash's soft shoulder.
"Can you keep going?" His voice from but a hair's breadth away gives me some sort of strength. And I do continue.
"The sight of me slumped against the wall, unmoving and losing control of my.....my bladder seemed to make him almost happy. I was just looking up at his face, searching for any form of remorse or pity. There was none. Then I realised I was sitting amidst a puddle, and my face hurt all over, and that he'd just hit me, and the shock arrived. I burst into tears, but it didn't do me any good."
**"Look at you, pissing yourself like some animal. What are you crying for? Are you some sort of fucking baby?" I don't know why, but I felt like I was doing something wrong.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry....." He snorted at my pitiful, snivelling figure cringing against the wall.
"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."**
Ash seems to hold me still tighter, and I feel more hands on my sides. Pikachu and Chikorita, also giving me their support.
("Why didn't you leave him?") Pikachu asks carefully.
"I was just too scared. Of course it was the drink and resentment talking. But all I knew then was that I'd been hit, and that I'd disgraced myself. I didn't know what to make of it, so I just asked him the one question on my mind."
**"Why? What did I do to you? It's not my fault you're here, you said yourself it's those people at the Gym! Why dad, please, don't hurt me, please….." He laughs, a deep, dirty, sinful laugh.
"Why? They never gave me a reason. They just said because. That's your answer too. Because. Because you didn't do all your chores. Because you didn't get enough things done today. Because you wouldn't get me my drink. Because it's you that cost me my life. Just because."**
"No, that's awful, that's too awful." Ash almost sounds ready to burst. I can hear Chikorita quietly starting to sob too, and Cyndaquil makes a soft noise in sympathy. I feel like choking, my eyes are streaming like waterfalls, but I just manage to squeak a few last words.
"After that, I was empty to his will. I changed myself, went and stole his drink. But he enjoyed the power he held over me. It seemed to give him feelings of power. So, when he felt the mood, he would hit me. Or threaten me. He was too big and strong for me, I had nowhere to go and hide, he said he'd track me down. So that was life for me. I was too scared of him to disobey or leave, not until that day just weeks ago....."
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I finally get up from my sitting position as Hazel's breathing steadies at last, red eyelids closed from reality at least for a while. I stretch carefully, feeling my tired, cramped muscles gently beginning to unknot. I'm still stunned by what came pouring out just a few hours ago. A torrent of pain and suffering, fear and guilt so engulfing it could drown. I'd had my suspicions, but nothing to this degree, not in my wildest nightmares. I've never seen anyone cry for so long or as hard as Hazel. Just telling me seemed to be as painful as labour to her. But to find out the abuse she'd received, both physical and mental for years, it's staggering. It really upset Chikorita, she's in a bad way. To be honest, I feel like breaking down, but I can't do that. It's up to me to be strong in this situation. Turning around, I move away from where Hazel is resting, wrapped tightly in my sleeping bag, over to the now bustling fireplace. It's surrounded by the rest of my companions, and each of them seems to be in a different level of shock. By there, Chikorita sobbing quietly, crimson orbs tightly shut. Pikachu with gaze cast to the earth, forepaws tightly clamped together as if in prayer. Misty, opposite, expression unreadable as Latin to me. Cyndaquil, next to Chikorita, face set in stone but eyes threatening tears. Chikorita and Pikachu I can understand, I would expect that reaction. Cyndaquil too, trying to hold it together. But Misty......
("She finally asleep?") Pikachu's quiet voice reaches my ears, and I nod.
"Yeah. Tired herself out completely." I sit down by the fire, entering into the ring of light it casts.
("Not surprising, I wondered if she was ever going to calm down. She just couldn't stop wailing.") Cyndaquil murmurs, staring hard into the blaze.
"Not surprising though. She's barely a teen, but has more scars than most gain from a lifetime." Chikorita scratches at the dirt before her, letting tiny streams flow from the corners of her eyes.
("Why would she hide this? I'm confused.") I'm thinking something, and I just know everyone else is too. A simple statement - Well, why do you hide things yourself? She's often the first to crawl into a hole. I see Pikachu draw in a small breath. Oh no, Pikachu, don't say it, please!
("Ask yourself. You do it all the time, you could always tell us.") Really bright, Pikachu. I know that she's not thinking straight right now, hell, none of us are. And I know she's upset because she feels Chikorita is being mulish. But that's not going to help, not at all.
("I can't tell you why. If you were me, you would understand why Hazel is like this, but I couldn't even explain it. Can you even understand yourself?") Her sallow voice pauses briefly, before continuing. ("Don't answer that, it's not worth the denial.") Pikachu, about to speak, seems to think for a moment before almost conceding the point.
("I can guess.") Cyndaquil mutters bitterly, dark orbs shimmering in the firelight with over-controlled emotion.
"Mmmm?"
("I bet that the first thing he said to her when he was done beating her, was 'If you tell anyone, I'll.....' and you can put what you want next.") He coughs, swallowing the rising lump in his throat. ("It's not right, but she believed him. She must have been scared for her life. And she was not even ten, just a baby.....") He cuts off, unable to say more. Silence again descends among us, only punctuated by a few sobs from Chikorita, and more coughing from Cyndaquil.
"Question is, what are we going to do now? Go to the police? No evidence. And we're going down to Cerulean City, which will frighten her all the more." Pikachu cuts in over me, tone bubbling with suppressed fury.
("If came within ten yards of us, I'd put him down for good.....") This raises a tiny smile.
"I've no doubt you would, and you'd be hard pressed to hit him before I did. I doubt her father could be bothered to come looking anyway, but to her setting foot into that city would be as good as suicide."
"So what are you saying?" Misty's voice echoes around the clearing, carrying the undeniable engravings of impatience upon it. "That I have to miss that exam? The one that I've been hanging my future on?" She sweeps her arm aggressively. "You can't do this to me! I have to be there no matter what!" Her voice almost barks the last words, like it's an order.
("Don't you care? Care about her at all?") The croaked voice of Chikorita sounds embittered, and oddly harsh. The blood red eyes open wide, fixed unerringly on Misty, who is taken aback. ("A little exam that you could do in six months against, against.....") She trails off, overtaken by some sort of inner conflict.
"Chikorita, I've been building up for too long to have it spoiled by some girl that I hardly know." I almost blanche at that remark. That's overstepping the mark, striding way, way over it.
("Well, I can see what you mean, in a way.") Pikachu muses, more thinking aloud than agreeing. She doesn't have the chance to think of anything else.
("I can't believe this! You're talking as if she's sort of stranger. Like someone you've bumped into in doorway, someone that you've seen begging on the street corner.") Chikorita's frenzied monologue is threatening to become a full-blooded scream, and I feel it's not far away. ("She's a person, and she's hurting. If you met someone in the road bleeding and shocked, wouldn't you help them up? Wouldn't you?!") Her pitch reaches a screech, amplified by scrambling to her feet.
"No, no I'm not, I'm just saying - " Misty is cut off by a whip-crack as Chikorita slaps her vine into the dirt, incensed.
("Just saying? What you're saying is you're willing to go on without a damn for her, just for a little qualification.") I'm baffled as to why she is reacting like this.
("Hey, take it easy, it's not like she was saying we should leave Hazel behind.") Pikachu jumps in to defend Misty, holding an earthen paw up to try and stop the tirade. It doesn't work.
("She was, and so were you. You'd be begging for sanctuary if you were here, yet here you are, talking down about her like she's a fucking object!") Just at the periphery of vision, I see Cyndaquil cover his ears and close his sight off tightly. This scares me, in all the time that I've known Cyndaquil, he's never done that.
"We weren't! That's a damn lie! I never said that we should leave her here, I said that we can't afford not to go to Cerulean!" Misty's rage is magnifying with the intensity of her voice, burning intense as the sun.
("No, YOU can't afford to get to Cerulean! It's nothing to do with me! You were implying we abandon her!") Chikorita shrieks back, matching Misty blow for blow. That can't last.
"No, you were assuming! You always assume the worst!" Chikorita's lip begins to tremble, her wave of animosity breaking whilst Misty still rides high atop her own. I must step in, this has gone way too far already.
"Now cool it you two, no need to....."
("How can you do this? Consider yourself above her, after just hearing her spill her soul to you?") I'm acceded by a voice is now more wobbly than waspish, but Chikorita won't give up just yet. To be honest, I can see both points of view, but I am on Chikorita's side. I don't want Misty to miss her chance, but I can't let Hazel go, not after she's given me her trust. And she needs me, needs me more than anyone ever has.
"Where do you get this bullshit from? I never said anything like it!" Liar, Misty. You don't always do it consciously, but you still look down on Hazel. And I know you're angry, but what you said earlier was way, way past reasonable.
("You did. You may not know it, but you did.") Comes the stated reply. Pikachu has given up, she's just watching. I try breaking in again.
"Calm down, both of you."
"Still always assuming the worst! Why can't you see anything from my point of view, huh? Why do you have to take her side, without even considering it!" Misty still ignores my calm tone, riding in her own chariot of fire, impervious to anything else. Her thinning face just serves to concentrate and intensify the searing glare she is trying to scorch her adversary with.
("That's not true. Cyndaquil agrees with me, don't you?") All noise dies as four gazes center on the figure who is laying with his eyes screwed tight and forepaws placed over ears in an attempt to shelter himself from the tempest of noise.
("Cyndaquil.....?") Pikachu looks puzzled, I guess she doesn't realise what the constant bickering has done to him, or to me.
("See what your screaming has done?") Shit. Chikorita spins to stare at Misty, sensing fresh ammunition. She doesn't understand either, that Cyndaquil's reaction isn't just down to this fight, but to many. Yet she's quite ready to blame Misty, maybe out of mistaken belief, maybe just to score a few points.
"My screaming?" Misty's eyes narrow to slits in reply. "You were the one screeching accusations like there was no tomorrow!"
("Yeah, right. Blame me!") The noise once again reaches crescendo, and I feel just about ready to scream. But someone else does it first.
("STOP IT, STOP IT ALL OF YOU!!") Cyndaquil roars blisteringly, slamming his forelegs into the ground, and I feel the very earth seem to quiver beneath me. Into the aftermath silence echoes, the only sound Hazel moaning and shifting in her fitful slumber. As I recover from the shock, I focus on his face. He looks furious, but it's shallow. He's about to crash, I can see it in his eyes. They don't glisten like a hot coal from the fire, they glisten like a cloud heavy with water. I start to slide over to him as he takes a deep breath, trying to recover the hold he has on himself.
("Cyndaquil? What's wrong?") Pikachu asks, concerned. The response is a terse shake of the head. He doesn't even trust himself to speak.
"Huh? What was that about? What's the problem Cyndaquil?" Misty sounds perplexed, aqua eyes mirroring the sentiment in her words. Again from Cyndaquil that single head shake, accompanied by his fire quills once again flaring into life, sending further spears of light the night.
"Do you need to ask?" I answer, placing a careful hand on his head in reassurance.
("Yes.") Pikachu replies. I couldn't say if she's being sarcastic or genuine.
("Fine, I'll tell you.") Cyndaquil abruptly sits up, and looks hard at each one of us in turn, except me, before continuing in a tone that could be used to carve diamonds. ("You're the problem. All of you. All I hear, morning, noon, night, is this. Bickering, sniping, harsh words. Every molehill a mountain. Every second an hour.") He stops, quiet authority in his countenance, and studies each of them in turn. None of them meet the gaze, Chikorita is resting her head on her forepaws, eyes tightly shut. Misty is staring at the fire, expression empty. Pikachu is seemingly examining an arm, but I can just feel her shame seeping from every pore. And Cyndaquil isn't done yet, not by a long shot. ("Do you know how many times I've heard this before in the last few weeks? No? Well, neither do I. But it's incessant, like the ticking, ticking, ticking of a clock, a timer for an explosion, the countdown to detonation. An endless tug of war between those who don't care why they began to pull, but keep doing so anyway. And I've been the rope wrung tight between the clutches, the bone contested by between two dogs who don't seem to care for the piece of meat they are contesting as much as victory over the enemy.") As his clinical voice shudders I wrap my arm around him in support, careful to avoid his firey quills.
("But I do care! Of course I care about you!") Chikorita throws her head up in exclamation, cherry orbs wide.
"We all do!" Misty adds, this time with genuine sentiment. Cyndaquil's shoulders sag subtly, like he's being drained of the very frustration and suppression that has kept them up against their will.
("Well I'm sorry I have to ask. I really am..... But I couldn't be sure, it's like I'm nothing more than an object any more. I'm a void which can be filled then ignored, like some cesspit for excess emotion. That's what I have become, a receptacle for hatred and fear that has no other purpose.") He glances up to me, dark eyes tearing up. ("And I'm sorry if I make you feel awful by saying this, but it's only Ash that has made me feel worthwhile, made life worthwhile, for some time. Without him, life wouldn't matter.") With that, he lets a tiny droplet of salty water escape his eyes, only for me to see. ("Sorry Ash, but I'm going to have to take a walk. Please don't follow me, I will see you again soon, I promise.") The last words are whispered for only me to hear. Yet they rain heavy as hammer blows. My last ally, leaving.....
"I don't know how I'm going to cope with this....." I murmur back, truthfully.
("You can. You're stronger, braver than I am. I just need a while to think. Don't worry, I'll never be far away, I'll track you. Ever need me, just re-trace your steps.") He gives me an all too brief nuzzle, and then slides off my lap.
"We're sorry, we didn't know you felt that way....." Misty's hesitant voice trails off as Cyndaquil shakes his head definitely.
("It's fine, just me over-reacting I guess. Anyway, I'm going for a little walk, just to cool down. I might be a while, so don't wait up.....") He gazes skyward briefly, again scanning for the moon which is withdrawn from sight, before trotting methodically into a gap between two bushes and out of sight.
("Cyndaquil.....") Chikorita breaths almost inaudibly, face laden heavy with regret. An errant zephyr hisses into the silence as it disturbs the undergrowth, just heightening the shell of silent tension now enclosing our little group. No-one wants to ask anyone else if what they fear, and I know, may be true.
("Ah, Ash.....") Pikachu cracks the shell with a tentative tone.
"Yeah?"
("Do you, uh, do you feel like that too?") I look away from where Cyndaquil has left, to see her fixing me with a nervous, but determined stare. For a second I feel like mimicking my comrade's actions, spilling the built-up tension without holding back. Yet somehow, I don't know whether it's through reflex, determination or cowardice, I don't.
"No, no. I'm fine, honestly." While my face and mouth are lying with great determination, my eyes are screaming with every ounce of their being. About Hazel's sorry plight. About the constant tearing and buffeting of verbal combat. And the doubts lingering over whether three little words that my love spoke, beyond conscious thought, were true.
("So long as you're sure.") Chikorita utters, morose. ("I'm going to bed.") She makes her way to her spot, and settles down, still facing away from everyone.
"Are you sure, Ash?" Misty asks gingerly, getting up.
"Yeah." I'm amazed I sound almost convincing. She takes it at face value, bidding me a soft 'goodnight' and laying on her sleeping bag, aqua orbs closing tight and turning over towards the woods.
("Liar.") Pikachu states quietly, hopping over to me. I look down to her, but for some reason, can't agree.
"No I'm not." She gazes at me as if I've gone crazy.
("Ash, I can tell when you're lying, I've known you for longer than anyone apart from your mother. And maybe, just maybe, I know you better than her. Why are you lying to me?!")
"Because there's no truth to tell you. I'm fine, really." This attempt of denial is as convincing as an outright lie, which is what it is.
("Oh, I give up. But only for now, Ash, I won't rest fully until you can trust me.") Pikachu sounds almost bitter, and I can see why. She knows me like no-one else does, yet she feels shut out. I'm guilty to the point of misery, but not to the point of confession. Irked by my silence, she hops past me to her own spot in the camp which is at my back, and rests her head on her own cushion, also turning her eyes away. And now here I sit, next to the dying fire, without a single gaze on me. Soon as lying down, everyone turned their backs on me. Even Cyndaquil has left. Encapsulated in a ring of silence. Yet all of them turn to me soon as they feel aggrieved. Perhaps Cyndaquil is right. Maybe all I am is a collection tin for bitterness. But I have to stay and find out. Even if it rips me to shreds. As I stare into the fire, I think about the idea of a sinking ship, something Cyndaquil had once alluded to me and him. And now, the one I had clung onto has sunk beneath the waves. Leaving me. My arms are tired, and my eyes are stinging with salt water. Not just of my imaginary sea, but of my own eyes. Well, since everyone else has been crying to me, I think I have the right to shed a silent tear for myself.....
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My stare travels out into the woods, scouring for a returning figure. Maybe I should have gone after Cyndaquil? Like he did for me? But no, I waited, and let him leave. But I don't know if he will return, there was something so definite about him tonight. I shed a silent tear in fear of losing a friend through sheer ignorance, weakness and pettiness.
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My stare scans the sky, searching for the star that I was told was mine when I was a child. I can't see it shine now. Even in the moonless sky. It's almost like my star is going out too, yet not dying in a blaze of light, but an empty whimper. I shed a silent tear of pain for Hazel, and for my the future, for the joker, fear of losing my love, and even myself.
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My stare fixes on his back, knowing he can't see me. His head bows, and I just know he's in tears. He feels so deeply, he used to be an open book, now he closes the covers. But I've seen him, in that pose,. before now, and I know what he is doing. I shed a silent tear of regret for my arrogance and use of him, and in memory of happy days we left behind.
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My stare is inward, reflecting on what I have done. I have been awake since almost the start of the argument, and heard what was said. Yet after the tales of wonder and delight I was told of their history, I feel distraught that it is I who have upset the balance. I shed a silent tear in despair for my stupidity, and the devastation that is my history.
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My stare is back to the campsite, watching the glow of the fire dying slowly. I've made up my mind now, and I must go. I will return, but until then I will feel the burden of leaving my family, my home, for the first time, and the sense of abandonment this brings. I shed a silent tear of remorse, for leaving my friend to fight on his own, like letting him drown. I turn away from the scene as the last wisps of light die, like mist below the sun, to leave darkness, and set out on my own. My mind screams at me that it's like Hazel's way, trying to get enough distance to escape my problems, leaving them behind not seeing them through, letting a wound try to bleed and clot rather than biting my lip and stitching it shut. Yet I can't, not yet. At the edge of my hearing I sense the river, the river we are following, the one that runs to the Cerulean sea. By the time the river meets the sea, I will rejoin my friends, and see this through. But for now, I will just let the river take it's path, washing past me, over me, irrespective of my will, until I can brave the currents again.
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Hope you enjoyed that, it took a lot of effort and time to write this chapter. But I love doing it!
Please R&R before you close the page, it'll only take a second ;)
'Til next time,
Dan.
Big Thanks to all reviewers, and especially to Karen, who has really been a wonder. This chapter (and some future ones) are worthy of an R-rating, so that's what this story will be from now on. There will be roses, but also thorns, that's for certian.
On with the story. (Oh, and sorry for the cramped appearance in parts, for some reason whenever I've tried uploading this chapter it keeps removing the paragraphing between POV changes, so I've put a line where there is a break.)
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Where the River Flows - Chapter VII
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23rd July - Morning. A new dawn. I've watched dawn break many, many times, but it never ceases to amaze me. Yet today, as if in recognition of my inner turbulence, the world's celing is layered by wreaths of cloud, swallowed by a prohibitive blanket for as far as my eyes will see. And I know it is today, the day my life will be turned upside down. I pray to the gods, but no-one is listening. I stare to the sky, and it leaves me blind. I'm alone now, it's for me to choose.....
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I sit myself down on the floor, trying to avoid everyone's eyes, which all seem to be trained accusingly on me. But I feel hollow. Empty. It's as if I'm a tree, a tree which has been dying, slowly, slowly over the whole of my life, until now all that is left is a pathetic shell. No. That's not right either. Inside the decrepit ring of bark something festers, the things which have eaten me from my very core, always within me, never seen with my own two eyes. And now there is nothing left to support the bark which remains. It is about to crumble, to snap, disintegrate to powder fine as sand. Yet they do not know, they still cannot see past the thin veneer of cheer and bluster which makes up my façade.
"You stole him. You stole your Charmander, without any thought, without any guilt!" Misty growls her accusation, one which strikes me hard as anything which I'd gone through, from both the mouths and fists of others. And the most bruising thing is that it is partly true.
"Yes, I stole him. Happy now you've got your pound of flesh?!" My voice drops from a growl to a murmur. "But there was more thought than you'd think I was capable of, and more guilt than you have ever experienced." I don't know why I said that, I didn't want this torture to continue, I want them to leave me alone!
("But you stole from us too! We trusted you, and this is how you repay!") Chikorita screeches, slapping the ground in front of me with a vine. They know about that too, but I couldn't help it. I just couldn't…
"I couldn't help it!" The words escape me, and I know now that I've slipped out with the tide of adrenaline which runs high in moments such as these, it's swallowed me up and dragged me away. I wouldn't ever have said that if I were thinking straight.
"What do you mean you couldn't help it? Someone held a gun to your head and forced you?" Misty's voice, laced with sarcasm and almost dripping with cynicism, makes me want to scream. She has no idea how close she is to the truth, that what she sees as ridiculous is my reality.
"I had to, I had nothing." I risk a look up, and see Misty's eyes smouldering. Chikorita seems just as angry, and so does Pikachu. Cyndaquil and Ash though….something about the way they're looking at me gives me impetus to continue. "I had no towels, clothes, possessions, I've always wanted something of my own…." I bite my lip at the slip. I'm open now, vulnerable.
("Why didn't you ask us, ask to borrow some money?") Cyndaquil nudges.
"Because." I fight the urge to spill my soul, but I can just feel it slipping like sand through my exhausted fingers.
("Because what?") Pikachu asks, irritated.
"Just because." My eyes, cast to the ground, to see Misty's foot stamp in impatience.
"God damn it, Hazel! Because is not enough! It's not a reason!" Her cutting tone slashes down to the bone, I feel still colder, still more empty. But it also strikes something, a deep memory, one of thousands I'd tried to bury away…A memory of a girl's voice, almost screaming with fear…My voice…
*"Why? What did I do to you? It's not my fault you're here, you said yourself it's those people at the Gym! Why dad, please, don't hurt me, please…" He laughs, a deep, dirty, sinful laugh.
"Why? They never gave me a reason. They just said because. That's your answer too. Because. Because you didn't do all your chores. Because you didn't get enough things today. Because it's you that cost me my life. Just because."*
"It's the only reason I ever recieved! Don't you think I deserved more? Perhaps then I might have known why I've had such a shit life." The chill stalling my soul is suddenly replaced by a primal fire, that of unrestrained anger.
"What?!" Misty barks, still riding on her own fury. It just incenses me more, to the point a scream is just waiting to erupt from my mouth, my hands balling into tight fists.
"And all I've ever known is that it's your fault. You." Snarled from the very depths of my heart, the thing I've longed to say breaks free. Fury gives me the strength to lift my head to stare her in the eye, to release what has been chained down for too long. "You! You met me, and didn't even recognise my name! Just because I'm one of the little casualties of your decadence, buried in some shack in some slum in some part of town you never set eyes on like it's an unmarked grave!" The words break free, finally smashing through the barriers of my self-control.
"Hazel, what are you talking about?" Misty's expression has slipped to confusion, Ash's to concern. But I'm being swept yet further away from reality, it seems so insignificant.
"You! You and your fucking family! And what you did to me! You bunch of arrogant bastards!" My nails tear deep gouges into the earth, just as the hands of despair grasp my very heart with terrible force. My eyes feel sore, cheeks smouldering, throat choking.
Misty rears up like a bucking horse. "Where the hell are you coming from, speaking to me like that! I don't even know what you mean!" That's just too much for me. I shake off the clutches of sadness for just a few precious moments, spring to my feet, and lash out rattlesnake-fast. My palm makes contact with her face, and the sound of the slap seems to rebound endlessly through the trees, as if to declare the statement of my revenge to the world. I let my hand slowly drop to my side, and watch Misty's eyes fill with tears as she puts her own hand to her head, to where redness through my attack burns brightly. After a few seconds, I slump back down to the ground, concealing my expression.
"Misty! Are you okay?" I see Ash's feet move right over to Misty, and glance up to see him tilt her head gently to look at the mark. He then draws her in closely, running a hand through her hair, murmuring quietly to her. She whispers back, and he turns to face me fully. His expression makes me feel almost shameful, not flowing anger or venomous hate, but disappointment. Disappointment and something else. He moves to my side and crouches down, as I drop my face, trying to hide from, to avoid what I knew would come.
"Hazel, why?" I can hear in his voice what I'd missed from his face. Concern. Almost fatherly concern. But that alone is enough to wring a solitary tear from my eyes, this time from sorrow and regret. At what I'd never had, and that it was because of me. I shake my head, frantically scrabbling to swallow the cries filling my mouth. But then, with silken tenderness, he places a finger under my chin and tilts my face up. I desperately try to avert my eyes from his, but they are as irresistible as the sun to a flower. I swallow again, to get the control to speak again.
"..…Because I've been hurt too much not to….." With that pitiful statement, I know I've lost. Lost the battle I've won for so many years. The thing I promised I would never do. The first tiny hiccup passes my lips as Ash leans in and hugs me, and I can't fight any more. I bury my face into his neck, letting tears flow freely, whimpering, squeezing him so tightly that I want to never leave his arms. His warm, all encompassing arms, arms which seem to keep the pain away. A feeling I've never had before, of total security, of peace and love. Love…The thought pulls yet deeper cries from deep within, and I tense up, trying to fight them down.
"Come on Hazel. Let it out. You can cry to me, and I'll just keep on holding you until you're ready." With those few caring words the last of my restraint flows ghost-like through my faltering grasp, and I just fall into the swirling mass of terror, anguish, hate, despair, loss, until I can see nothing. A thousand, a million different shades and hues all blending until they just form white, the white, pure emotion which has grown and grown inside me for so long, growing so deep and cloying that I can do nothing now but float within it until it is all washed away. Washed away by my tears, running in endless rivers down my face, into Ash's shoulder, the shoulder I've needed to cry on for so long. I don't care that I look like a little child, all that matters is I'm cared for at last. And I have the trust in him to let go of my anger, explain once and for all why I am who I am. A petty thief, a cruel witch, but at the same time, the Snow White who never had a Prince to take her curse away…
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I keep on staring at nothing, trying to put off the inevitable. The last cigarette for the woman destined to die. Enjoying each and every moment before I spill my soul, to be so vulnerable, weak and pitiful. The things I tried to avoid, make a new start, as a new person. None of the weaknesses and shadows which are seeping out, as the first wisps of smoke preceding a blaze.
"Come on Hazel, you're going to have to explain. You owe it to yourself, as well as us." I refuse to make eye contact with Ash, refuse to react at all. But I can hear the gun being cocked, and held to my head. I have to bite the bullet now, or let it kill me like it did before.
"Uh, you know that I left on my thirteenth birthday, well I didn't leave on a journey. I ran away." A few faltering words, and I feel my voice die. This is so wrong, why am I saying anything?
("I think we need to know why.") Cyndaquil murmurs, shuffling over to me and putting his head on my leg, like a dog wanting it's nose rubbed. I fight the urge to react to the touch, but I can't help but twitch.
("Why did you just flinch?") Pikachu asks, spotting it. With that, everyone seems to focus in on me afresh. Even Misty, although her eyes are filled with caution. Too many stares, too many….. Unconsciously I shrink back away from them all, arms wrapping protectively across my chest. Fear flickers, hands of ice stroking my back, begging me to panic.
"Stop wasting time. Tell us, or leave us." Misty snarls, impatience and barely contained anger seeping from every pore. But this time her voice doesn't make me angry, it's as bruising as a punch. Because I used to hear that tone, and it was never long until the verbal attack became altogether more physical…
"Misty, stop. This is hard enough for her as it is." Ash steps in to defend me, while slipping a hand onto my leg. Misty's eyes register shock for the briefest moment, before softening and looking away. I glance down at Ash's hand rested feather-light on my knee, and sigh. But I don't pull away. Why? Could it be that I actually trust him? His voice breaks the silence once again, words spoken softly as a petal dancing on the summer breeze. "I guess this is very difficult. But can't you trust us? Trust .….me?" I let my suddenly hazy gaze travel up his arm, and to his face. The one face that I feel I love.
"Maybe, just maybe you..…" I breathe, before taking a long, steadying gulp of air. It's inevitable, I'm going to cry, I know it.
"Then tell me, don't kill yourself with regrets..…" I bite my lower lip as a solitary bead of water runs down my cheek, but hold myself together. This pain, it's swollen inside me, like an unwanted pregnancy. And the waters are about to break.
"I'll try - I will." Another deep shuddering breath, and Ash moves even closer to me, placing his other arm around my shoulders. He makes me so warm, safe. Safe enough to try and explain. "I-I said I ran away. But I had to. I had no choice!" Bile rises in my throat along with the acrid taste of memories. "My parents, well, my father was a top water-type trainer. My mother wasn't married to him. She was a good friend of him, but it was a one night stand type thing. He knew I was his, and although he and my mother were not together legally through marriage, he had promised to bring me up as his daughter. Or, that's what my mother told me. I rarely saw him when I was really little, he was always off on expeditions. But then, I was about two and a half, when it happened." I grit my teeth together, and look at Misty. "Does the name Darren John, or DJ Thornton mean anything to you?" She gives me a quick glare, but seems to think for a moment. And then her expression changes. To shock.
"You mean…" I nod curtly, staring at the floor once more.
"Yes, I'm his daughter. The very same one that was used like some shameful picture for blackmail….." I choke off a sob as the rage within me builds again, like a contraction which makes me want to vomit. Ash and Cyndaquil both make gentle calming noises, cooling me down a little.
("What do you mean by that?") Chikorita looks puzzled, switching looks from Misty to me, and back. I glance up myself, and see Misty guiltily avoiding my sight. She remembers now.
"The previous Cerulean gym leader had retired. And it was between my father and the Williams family for the next ownership. And, my father was more qualified, and more talented than Misty's parents. But then the "honourable" Williams family….." I almost spit at the words "…..Found out that my father had a dirty little secret. Me. An illegitimate child. Now, Pokemon gym leaders are supposed to be upstanding examples to the community. But there was no way that my father could possibly be an upstanding member of the city if he had me, was there? And of course, the Williams family took it upon themselves to report their discovery to the league authorities, it being the right and honest thing to do, and had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that it left them clear to inherit the gym." I reach up and angrily swipe away a few tears that have leaked onto my face, so that I can see Misty clearly. "The Williams family knew quite well that I was being brought up by loving parents in a good relationship, but that didn't matter shit to them, so long as they got the gym. My dad had put in a lot of work and money into promoting himself as the next gym leader, so he ended up broke. He got shovelled into some little flat in a no-go part of town, and my mother moved in with him. But before long she got ill, and just wasted away. Kidney disease. Couldn't afford private treatment, waiting lists too long, prognosis too bad. Gone just like that, before I was four…" A quite sob erupts from my throat, and I let my body sag down again. Anguish of indescribable intensity rips at every part of me, with potency I can't control. As Ash again puts both his arms around me I cuddle into his grasp shamelessly, allowing yet more long withheld tears to flow. I stay that way, wailing like a lost child for what could be weeks or seconds, cocooned by his embrace, for once feeling safe to cry. Gradually I become aware of his fingers running through my hair as we rock smoothly, and I ease back from his shoulder, now not bothering to wipe away the wetness on my face. He studies me carefully, and I can just sense the eyes of everyone else around the fire doing the same. Finally he seems satisfied, and gives me a tiny smile.
"Can you go on?" I hesitate for a moment, torn between the desire to retreat and hide and to finish the trial. It's tempting to take my life back into my hands and bury it in the sand again, but somehow I feel lighter. And I know that just one final push could rid myself of this burden for good. In this defining moment between fear and desire, desire won.
"Yes." My voice is barely a croak, but it carries with it great certainty.
("So, what happened next?") Pikachu nudges, reminding me of their presence. For another brief moment I consider closing up once more, but manage to fight it. Instead, I swallow back the lump in my throat, and continue in a shaky voice.
"Well, soon as my mum died, my dad hit the bottle. Really hard. He at first said he was drinking to forget, but it just seemed to make him remember. I was only little, but I knew something was really wrong. My grandmother, that being my mum's mother, helped us along, she somehow got over the death well and held my dad together for a while. But then she passed away too, when I was about seven. It was the same thing as my mother, some sort of hereditary thing, I'd been tested and came up clean. But it reminded my dad of how he'd lost mum, and he gave up. Sold his Pokemon for money, and just bought spirits with it. Drank himself silly." I feel more tears begin to spill now, but out of anger. Anger at my father, and the life he gave me. My voice rises a little, gaining a sharp edge. "I had to do all the work around the house, barely got to school. My friends all left me. But then he told me, one day, to go to the nearest supermarket and get him a bottle of drink. I asked him how, as we had barely any money. He just laughed and told me to improvise. I asked him if he meant steal, and he said yes. I said no. But then, then…" I find my tone cracking up. As soon as I say any more, that's it.
("Go on, you're doing really well.") Cyndaquil murmurs, moving cat-like onto my lap, dark eyes begging me silently to continue. I'm amazed to find myself relax as he does. Normally I'm uncomfortable with any sort of physical contact. Contact from a touch to a grasp to more. I know why, and I think it's time they know why.
"He grabbed me by the wrist. And asked me to repeat what I had said....."
**"I said no. I don't want to steal." He looked at me, and blinked slowly.
"There's no choice about it. We ain't got no money, and I ain't got no drink. Unless you can get me some money, you're gonna have to steal me some drink."**
Ash looks at me carefully. "He asked you to steal for him?" I nod mutely.
".....I remember that I could hear a tone in his voice, one that he'd rarely used before. Normally, it was one he'd used when I'd been stupid. but as far as I could see, he was the stupid one. So, like a kid does, I decided to tell him....."
**"No, I won't. You drink all the time, you should stop." Those brown eyes of his, which had slept in a drowned stupor for a long, long time, seemed to take a sudden focus on me. That didn't scare me this time, but from then on it would. Scare me beyond words.....
"I want a drink, and you're gonna get me one. Understand?"**
".....His husky voice, rubbed raw by the alcohol that had scorched it for too long, grew dark. I still didn't pick it up." I hear Chikorita take a deep breath.
("I don't like the way that this is going.....") Cyndaquil shakes his head in agreement.
("Nor do I.") He looks up to me, eyes sympathetic. ("What did you do?") I chuckle hollowly in response.
"As far as I was concerned, I was going to put my foot down. But that was so foolish, looking back on it. If I had just agreed, gone and stolen his drink, he might not have found another vent for his anger....."
**"I won't. I won't steal, it's wrong." Still holding onto my innocence, but it wasn't going to last for long.
"You will." He pulls himself up to sit on the decrepit sofa he seems to have lain on forever. "I'll make you." I humph, looking to the ceiling.
"No you won't."**
".....But I didn't. And then, he got angry. Very angry, very quickly. He got out of his chair, and grabbed me by both of my wrists with just one hand. Tight. So tight it brought tears to my eyes, I thought my hands were going to be wrenched right off....." I can hear a collective gasp from everyone, and my throat feels so tight it suffocates. But I want to go on.
**"Yeah, I will." I was transfixed by his stare, and felt fear flitter into my mind. But I didn't see it. I didn't see his spare arm moving back, nor his hand close, not until his fist connected with my cheek. I sprawled to the ground, utterly shocked. I wet myself, lost control, I just couldn't do anything. Didn't know how to react.**
I realise that I'm weeping quietly, and Ash wraps his arms around me snugly. I accept his shoulder, letting the river of tears flow.
"He hit you." Misty mutters, seemingly shocked. I don't bother to look at her, I just nod quietly, my head still embedded in Ash's soft shoulder.
"Can you keep going?" His voice from but a hair's breadth away gives me some sort of strength. And I do continue.
"The sight of me slumped against the wall, unmoving and losing control of my.....my bladder seemed to make him almost happy. I was just looking up at his face, searching for any form of remorse or pity. There was none. Then I realised I was sitting amidst a puddle, and my face hurt all over, and that he'd just hit me, and the shock arrived. I burst into tears, but it didn't do me any good."
**"Look at you, pissing yourself like some animal. What are you crying for? Are you some sort of fucking baby?" I don't know why, but I felt like I was doing something wrong.
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry....." He snorted at my pitiful, snivelling figure cringing against the wall.
"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."**
Ash seems to hold me still tighter, and I feel more hands on my sides. Pikachu and Chikorita, also giving me their support.
("Why didn't you leave him?") Pikachu asks carefully.
"I was just too scared. Of course it was the drink and resentment talking. But all I knew then was that I'd been hit, and that I'd disgraced myself. I didn't know what to make of it, so I just asked him the one question on my mind."
**"Why? What did I do to you? It's not my fault you're here, you said yourself it's those people at the Gym! Why dad, please, don't hurt me, please….." He laughs, a deep, dirty, sinful laugh.
"Why? They never gave me a reason. They just said because. That's your answer too. Because. Because you didn't do all your chores. Because you didn't get enough things done today. Because you wouldn't get me my drink. Because it's you that cost me my life. Just because."**
"No, that's awful, that's too awful." Ash almost sounds ready to burst. I can hear Chikorita quietly starting to sob too, and Cyndaquil makes a soft noise in sympathy. I feel like choking, my eyes are streaming like waterfalls, but I just manage to squeak a few last words.
"After that, I was empty to his will. I changed myself, went and stole his drink. But he enjoyed the power he held over me. It seemed to give him feelings of power. So, when he felt the mood, he would hit me. Or threaten me. He was too big and strong for me, I had nowhere to go and hide, he said he'd track me down. So that was life for me. I was too scared of him to disobey or leave, not until that day just weeks ago....."
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I finally get up from my sitting position as Hazel's breathing steadies at last, red eyelids closed from reality at least for a while. I stretch carefully, feeling my tired, cramped muscles gently beginning to unknot. I'm still stunned by what came pouring out just a few hours ago. A torrent of pain and suffering, fear and guilt so engulfing it could drown. I'd had my suspicions, but nothing to this degree, not in my wildest nightmares. I've never seen anyone cry for so long or as hard as Hazel. Just telling me seemed to be as painful as labour to her. But to find out the abuse she'd received, both physical and mental for years, it's staggering. It really upset Chikorita, she's in a bad way. To be honest, I feel like breaking down, but I can't do that. It's up to me to be strong in this situation. Turning around, I move away from where Hazel is resting, wrapped tightly in my sleeping bag, over to the now bustling fireplace. It's surrounded by the rest of my companions, and each of them seems to be in a different level of shock. By there, Chikorita sobbing quietly, crimson orbs tightly shut. Pikachu with gaze cast to the earth, forepaws tightly clamped together as if in prayer. Misty, opposite, expression unreadable as Latin to me. Cyndaquil, next to Chikorita, face set in stone but eyes threatening tears. Chikorita and Pikachu I can understand, I would expect that reaction. Cyndaquil too, trying to hold it together. But Misty......
("She finally asleep?") Pikachu's quiet voice reaches my ears, and I nod.
"Yeah. Tired herself out completely." I sit down by the fire, entering into the ring of light it casts.
("Not surprising, I wondered if she was ever going to calm down. She just couldn't stop wailing.") Cyndaquil murmurs, staring hard into the blaze.
"Not surprising though. She's barely a teen, but has more scars than most gain from a lifetime." Chikorita scratches at the dirt before her, letting tiny streams flow from the corners of her eyes.
("Why would she hide this? I'm confused.") I'm thinking something, and I just know everyone else is too. A simple statement - Well, why do you hide things yourself? She's often the first to crawl into a hole. I see Pikachu draw in a small breath. Oh no, Pikachu, don't say it, please!
("Ask yourself. You do it all the time, you could always tell us.") Really bright, Pikachu. I know that she's not thinking straight right now, hell, none of us are. And I know she's upset because she feels Chikorita is being mulish. But that's not going to help, not at all.
("I can't tell you why. If you were me, you would understand why Hazel is like this, but I couldn't even explain it. Can you even understand yourself?") Her sallow voice pauses briefly, before continuing. ("Don't answer that, it's not worth the denial.") Pikachu, about to speak, seems to think for a moment before almost conceding the point.
("I can guess.") Cyndaquil mutters bitterly, dark orbs shimmering in the firelight with over-controlled emotion.
"Mmmm?"
("I bet that the first thing he said to her when he was done beating her, was 'If you tell anyone, I'll.....' and you can put what you want next.") He coughs, swallowing the rising lump in his throat. ("It's not right, but she believed him. She must have been scared for her life. And she was not even ten, just a baby.....") He cuts off, unable to say more. Silence again descends among us, only punctuated by a few sobs from Chikorita, and more coughing from Cyndaquil.
"Question is, what are we going to do now? Go to the police? No evidence. And we're going down to Cerulean City, which will frighten her all the more." Pikachu cuts in over me, tone bubbling with suppressed fury.
("If came within ten yards of us, I'd put him down for good.....") This raises a tiny smile.
"I've no doubt you would, and you'd be hard pressed to hit him before I did. I doubt her father could be bothered to come looking anyway, but to her setting foot into that city would be as good as suicide."
"So what are you saying?" Misty's voice echoes around the clearing, carrying the undeniable engravings of impatience upon it. "That I have to miss that exam? The one that I've been hanging my future on?" She sweeps her arm aggressively. "You can't do this to me! I have to be there no matter what!" Her voice almost barks the last words, like it's an order.
("Don't you care? Care about her at all?") The croaked voice of Chikorita sounds embittered, and oddly harsh. The blood red eyes open wide, fixed unerringly on Misty, who is taken aback. ("A little exam that you could do in six months against, against.....") She trails off, overtaken by some sort of inner conflict.
"Chikorita, I've been building up for too long to have it spoiled by some girl that I hardly know." I almost blanche at that remark. That's overstepping the mark, striding way, way over it.
("Well, I can see what you mean, in a way.") Pikachu muses, more thinking aloud than agreeing. She doesn't have the chance to think of anything else.
("I can't believe this! You're talking as if she's sort of stranger. Like someone you've bumped into in doorway, someone that you've seen begging on the street corner.") Chikorita's frenzied monologue is threatening to become a full-blooded scream, and I feel it's not far away. ("She's a person, and she's hurting. If you met someone in the road bleeding and shocked, wouldn't you help them up? Wouldn't you?!") Her pitch reaches a screech, amplified by scrambling to her feet.
"No, no I'm not, I'm just saying - " Misty is cut off by a whip-crack as Chikorita slaps her vine into the dirt, incensed.
("Just saying? What you're saying is you're willing to go on without a damn for her, just for a little qualification.") I'm baffled as to why she is reacting like this.
("Hey, take it easy, it's not like she was saying we should leave Hazel behind.") Pikachu jumps in to defend Misty, holding an earthen paw up to try and stop the tirade. It doesn't work.
("She was, and so were you. You'd be begging for sanctuary if you were here, yet here you are, talking down about her like she's a fucking object!") Just at the periphery of vision, I see Cyndaquil cover his ears and close his sight off tightly. This scares me, in all the time that I've known Cyndaquil, he's never done that.
"We weren't! That's a damn lie! I never said that we should leave her here, I said that we can't afford not to go to Cerulean!" Misty's rage is magnifying with the intensity of her voice, burning intense as the sun.
("No, YOU can't afford to get to Cerulean! It's nothing to do with me! You were implying we abandon her!") Chikorita shrieks back, matching Misty blow for blow. That can't last.
"No, you were assuming! You always assume the worst!" Chikorita's lip begins to tremble, her wave of animosity breaking whilst Misty still rides high atop her own. I must step in, this has gone way too far already.
"Now cool it you two, no need to....."
("How can you do this? Consider yourself above her, after just hearing her spill her soul to you?") I'm acceded by a voice is now more wobbly than waspish, but Chikorita won't give up just yet. To be honest, I can see both points of view, but I am on Chikorita's side. I don't want Misty to miss her chance, but I can't let Hazel go, not after she's given me her trust. And she needs me, needs me more than anyone ever has.
"Where do you get this bullshit from? I never said anything like it!" Liar, Misty. You don't always do it consciously, but you still look down on Hazel. And I know you're angry, but what you said earlier was way, way past reasonable.
("You did. You may not know it, but you did.") Comes the stated reply. Pikachu has given up, she's just watching. I try breaking in again.
"Calm down, both of you."
"Still always assuming the worst! Why can't you see anything from my point of view, huh? Why do you have to take her side, without even considering it!" Misty still ignores my calm tone, riding in her own chariot of fire, impervious to anything else. Her thinning face just serves to concentrate and intensify the searing glare she is trying to scorch her adversary with.
("That's not true. Cyndaquil agrees with me, don't you?") All noise dies as four gazes center on the figure who is laying with his eyes screwed tight and forepaws placed over ears in an attempt to shelter himself from the tempest of noise.
("Cyndaquil.....?") Pikachu looks puzzled, I guess she doesn't realise what the constant bickering has done to him, or to me.
("See what your screaming has done?") Shit. Chikorita spins to stare at Misty, sensing fresh ammunition. She doesn't understand either, that Cyndaquil's reaction isn't just down to this fight, but to many. Yet she's quite ready to blame Misty, maybe out of mistaken belief, maybe just to score a few points.
"My screaming?" Misty's eyes narrow to slits in reply. "You were the one screeching accusations like there was no tomorrow!"
("Yeah, right. Blame me!") The noise once again reaches crescendo, and I feel just about ready to scream. But someone else does it first.
("STOP IT, STOP IT ALL OF YOU!!") Cyndaquil roars blisteringly, slamming his forelegs into the ground, and I feel the very earth seem to quiver beneath me. Into the aftermath silence echoes, the only sound Hazel moaning and shifting in her fitful slumber. As I recover from the shock, I focus on his face. He looks furious, but it's shallow. He's about to crash, I can see it in his eyes. They don't glisten like a hot coal from the fire, they glisten like a cloud heavy with water. I start to slide over to him as he takes a deep breath, trying to recover the hold he has on himself.
("Cyndaquil? What's wrong?") Pikachu asks, concerned. The response is a terse shake of the head. He doesn't even trust himself to speak.
"Huh? What was that about? What's the problem Cyndaquil?" Misty sounds perplexed, aqua eyes mirroring the sentiment in her words. Again from Cyndaquil that single head shake, accompanied by his fire quills once again flaring into life, sending further spears of light the night.
"Do you need to ask?" I answer, placing a careful hand on his head in reassurance.
("Yes.") Pikachu replies. I couldn't say if she's being sarcastic or genuine.
("Fine, I'll tell you.") Cyndaquil abruptly sits up, and looks hard at each one of us in turn, except me, before continuing in a tone that could be used to carve diamonds. ("You're the problem. All of you. All I hear, morning, noon, night, is this. Bickering, sniping, harsh words. Every molehill a mountain. Every second an hour.") He stops, quiet authority in his countenance, and studies each of them in turn. None of them meet the gaze, Chikorita is resting her head on her forepaws, eyes tightly shut. Misty is staring at the fire, expression empty. Pikachu is seemingly examining an arm, but I can just feel her shame seeping from every pore. And Cyndaquil isn't done yet, not by a long shot. ("Do you know how many times I've heard this before in the last few weeks? No? Well, neither do I. But it's incessant, like the ticking, ticking, ticking of a clock, a timer for an explosion, the countdown to detonation. An endless tug of war between those who don't care why they began to pull, but keep doing so anyway. And I've been the rope wrung tight between the clutches, the bone contested by between two dogs who don't seem to care for the piece of meat they are contesting as much as victory over the enemy.") As his clinical voice shudders I wrap my arm around him in support, careful to avoid his firey quills.
("But I do care! Of course I care about you!") Chikorita throws her head up in exclamation, cherry orbs wide.
"We all do!" Misty adds, this time with genuine sentiment. Cyndaquil's shoulders sag subtly, like he's being drained of the very frustration and suppression that has kept them up against their will.
("Well I'm sorry I have to ask. I really am..... But I couldn't be sure, it's like I'm nothing more than an object any more. I'm a void which can be filled then ignored, like some cesspit for excess emotion. That's what I have become, a receptacle for hatred and fear that has no other purpose.") He glances up to me, dark eyes tearing up. ("And I'm sorry if I make you feel awful by saying this, but it's only Ash that has made me feel worthwhile, made life worthwhile, for some time. Without him, life wouldn't matter.") With that, he lets a tiny droplet of salty water escape his eyes, only for me to see. ("Sorry Ash, but I'm going to have to take a walk. Please don't follow me, I will see you again soon, I promise.") The last words are whispered for only me to hear. Yet they rain heavy as hammer blows. My last ally, leaving.....
"I don't know how I'm going to cope with this....." I murmur back, truthfully.
("You can. You're stronger, braver than I am. I just need a while to think. Don't worry, I'll never be far away, I'll track you. Ever need me, just re-trace your steps.") He gives me an all too brief nuzzle, and then slides off my lap.
"We're sorry, we didn't know you felt that way....." Misty's hesitant voice trails off as Cyndaquil shakes his head definitely.
("It's fine, just me over-reacting I guess. Anyway, I'm going for a little walk, just to cool down. I might be a while, so don't wait up.....") He gazes skyward briefly, again scanning for the moon which is withdrawn from sight, before trotting methodically into a gap between two bushes and out of sight.
("Cyndaquil.....") Chikorita breaths almost inaudibly, face laden heavy with regret. An errant zephyr hisses into the silence as it disturbs the undergrowth, just heightening the shell of silent tension now enclosing our little group. No-one wants to ask anyone else if what they fear, and I know, may be true.
("Ah, Ash.....") Pikachu cracks the shell with a tentative tone.
"Yeah?"
("Do you, uh, do you feel like that too?") I look away from where Cyndaquil has left, to see her fixing me with a nervous, but determined stare. For a second I feel like mimicking my comrade's actions, spilling the built-up tension without holding back. Yet somehow, I don't know whether it's through reflex, determination or cowardice, I don't.
"No, no. I'm fine, honestly." While my face and mouth are lying with great determination, my eyes are screaming with every ounce of their being. About Hazel's sorry plight. About the constant tearing and buffeting of verbal combat. And the doubts lingering over whether three little words that my love spoke, beyond conscious thought, were true.
("So long as you're sure.") Chikorita utters, morose. ("I'm going to bed.") She makes her way to her spot, and settles down, still facing away from everyone.
"Are you sure, Ash?" Misty asks gingerly, getting up.
"Yeah." I'm amazed I sound almost convincing. She takes it at face value, bidding me a soft 'goodnight' and laying on her sleeping bag, aqua orbs closing tight and turning over towards the woods.
("Liar.") Pikachu states quietly, hopping over to me. I look down to her, but for some reason, can't agree.
"No I'm not." She gazes at me as if I've gone crazy.
("Ash, I can tell when you're lying, I've known you for longer than anyone apart from your mother. And maybe, just maybe, I know you better than her. Why are you lying to me?!")
"Because there's no truth to tell you. I'm fine, really." This attempt of denial is as convincing as an outright lie, which is what it is.
("Oh, I give up. But only for now, Ash, I won't rest fully until you can trust me.") Pikachu sounds almost bitter, and I can see why. She knows me like no-one else does, yet she feels shut out. I'm guilty to the point of misery, but not to the point of confession. Irked by my silence, she hops past me to her own spot in the camp which is at my back, and rests her head on her own cushion, also turning her eyes away. And now here I sit, next to the dying fire, without a single gaze on me. Soon as lying down, everyone turned their backs on me. Even Cyndaquil has left. Encapsulated in a ring of silence. Yet all of them turn to me soon as they feel aggrieved. Perhaps Cyndaquil is right. Maybe all I am is a collection tin for bitterness. But I have to stay and find out. Even if it rips me to shreds. As I stare into the fire, I think about the idea of a sinking ship, something Cyndaquil had once alluded to me and him. And now, the one I had clung onto has sunk beneath the waves. Leaving me. My arms are tired, and my eyes are stinging with salt water. Not just of my imaginary sea, but of my own eyes. Well, since everyone else has been crying to me, I think I have the right to shed a silent tear for myself.....
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My stare travels out into the woods, scouring for a returning figure. Maybe I should have gone after Cyndaquil? Like he did for me? But no, I waited, and let him leave. But I don't know if he will return, there was something so definite about him tonight. I shed a silent tear in fear of losing a friend through sheer ignorance, weakness and pettiness.
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My stare scans the sky, searching for the star that I was told was mine when I was a child. I can't see it shine now. Even in the moonless sky. It's almost like my star is going out too, yet not dying in a blaze of light, but an empty whimper. I shed a silent tear of pain for Hazel, and for my the future, for the joker, fear of losing my love, and even myself.
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My stare fixes on his back, knowing he can't see me. His head bows, and I just know he's in tears. He feels so deeply, he used to be an open book, now he closes the covers. But I've seen him, in that pose,. before now, and I know what he is doing. I shed a silent tear of regret for my arrogance and use of him, and in memory of happy days we left behind.
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My stare is inward, reflecting on what I have done. I have been awake since almost the start of the argument, and heard what was said. Yet after the tales of wonder and delight I was told of their history, I feel distraught that it is I who have upset the balance. I shed a silent tear in despair for my stupidity, and the devastation that is my history.
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My stare is back to the campsite, watching the glow of the fire dying slowly. I've made up my mind now, and I must go. I will return, but until then I will feel the burden of leaving my family, my home, for the first time, and the sense of abandonment this brings. I shed a silent tear of remorse, for leaving my friend to fight on his own, like letting him drown. I turn away from the scene as the last wisps of light die, like mist below the sun, to leave darkness, and set out on my own. My mind screams at me that it's like Hazel's way, trying to get enough distance to escape my problems, leaving them behind not seeing them through, letting a wound try to bleed and clot rather than biting my lip and stitching it shut. Yet I can't, not yet. At the edge of my hearing I sense the river, the river we are following, the one that runs to the Cerulean sea. By the time the river meets the sea, I will rejoin my friends, and see this through. But for now, I will just let the river take it's path, washing past me, over me, irrespective of my will, until I can brave the currents again.
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Hope you enjoyed that, it took a lot of effort and time to write this chapter. But I love doing it!
Please R&R before you close the page, it'll only take a second ;)
'Til next time,
Dan.