Episode 1: Mom
"Wake up, son," my mom said, gently tapping me on the shoulder. "Time to get up!"
So I hadn't died after all. It was just a weird dream because I was playing Pokemon too much in the hospital bed.
"Oh thank god, mom," I said, turning towards her, rubbing my eyes. "I had the weirdest drea- AH WHO ARE YOU?" I sat up, shouting.
A lady I'd never seen in my life was smiling at me with confusion. "Your mom, silly!"
But she wasn't. And my voice… my voice! Why was it so high-pitched?
"Ah, ah," I tested my voice. A boy's voice. A ten year boy's voice.
OH MY GOD. I'm still dreaming. No, this is not a dream.
I touched my face. A small face, with a smooth baby skin. And my hair was not as thick and bushy as I knew it to be. I looked down at my arms and legs. A boy's body. Oh no.. this couldn't be real, could it? But the evidence was all there. I was somehow put in the body of a small boy.
I looked around the room. My bed was in the corner, and in the middle of the room there was an old TV with a SNES attached to it. A staircase at the far corner of the room was leading downstairs. I looked behind me to see an old desktop (90's style), and a pot of palm-looking plant in the opposite corner.
My "mom" looked at me funny while I was inspecting the room, then finally tussled my hair.
"Happy birthday, Ash! You're ten now, and you have to get started on your Pokemon journey!"
I've always been an analytical and rational person in my (previous) life, I had time to put my brain to work while my "mom" was preparing breakfast downstairs. For some reason, by some power of God or trick of the devil, my afterlife was in the Pokemon world. Not only that, but I was Ash, or "Red," the main character of the first-gen Kanto region Pokemon world.
I tried the old cliche routine of pinching myself and even slapped myself a few times hard to see if I'd wake up. No dice. I had to come to terms with the fact that this was my life now, no matter how it happened.
I felt the need to use the bathroom, so I went. There was a door leading to one in my room, and it occurred to me that there was no such thing as bathrooms in the original game. So this isn't just like the Pokemon game. My consciousness is not just taking a backseat ride through a 2D pixel-art game, but we're living, breathing people, with biological needs to eat and relieve ourselves. Interesting. I wasn't 100% sure how this would play out, but I had no choice but to go with it.
My "mom" must've come up to the room while I was taking a shower, because I found some clothes laid out for me on the bed. It was the outfit which we've all seen Ash Ketchum wear in the Pokemon animation series: jeans, a black t-shirt, a blue vest (water-resistant), and even a pair of green fingerless gloves (I already made up my mind I'm not wearing these).
I went downstairs to find a wonderful breakfast of pancakes, eggs, and sausages laid out for me on the dining table. At first I was skeptical of what they would taste like, given that this was supposed to be a video game world (or some sort of hell), but they were actually really tasty. My new mom was a great cook. And I teared up a bit, remembering my old mom, my real mom, from my previous life. My previous family.
"Are you alright, dear? Is something the matter?" my Pokemon world mom asked with genuine, loving concern, and this warmed my heart.
So she wasn't just an NPC. Or was she? I didn't know. But she was sweet.
"I'm alright, mom," I said. "This is some good food. Thank you."
She smiled and poured me a glass of orange juice.
Breakfast with my new mom confirmed and deepened my understanding of this new world. The overall frame of the world was based around the game (and this was the case, as I'm sure my account will show you), but the people or "characters" in it (specifically, NPCs) also seemed to be real people.
I tried to test my theory a bit.
"So hey, mom, where's uh… where's dad?"
It was then I noticed, briefly but surely, a slight inadvertent pause in her eyes, before she responded. It was as if something was buffering or loading in her head…
She then smiled and reminded me (although I wasn't in this body at the time to remember previous conversations) that my dad was a Pokemon trainer, and he was somewhere out there in the world (alive? dead?).
"Is he ever coming back? When was the last time you've heard anything from him?"
These were met with "I don't know, son." It didn't seem to occur to her that it was weird (and wrong) for my dad to leave her to raise their son by herself. I tried asking other questions.
"Do I HAVE to go on my Pokemon journey? Can't I just stay here with you? What if I don't want to be a Pokemon trainer?"
These were all met with the "everyone has to go on their Pokemon journey when they become ten." So apparently, there's no Child Services in this world.
Any critical, "real-life" questions were also met with brief pauses, and it made me realize that although my mom was a living, breathing thing, she obviously was driven to say things and behave in certain ways that were programmed into her somehow.
In this world, ten year-olds HAD to go on their Pokemon journeys. In this world, my dad just isn't here, and there's no good reason. In this world, I was basically Truman from the movie Truman Show, and my mom was just a person that exists to uphold the reality of this world. She could be an independent person, but only within the confines of her scripted role.
At least, this was my best working theory.
As if to prove my point, my efforts to refuse to leave for my Pokemon journey were met with differently-worded iterations of "Time to go, Ash! How exciting it must be for you!"
I had to proceed. If this world wanted me to be the main character, then I had to play the game. Literally.
"I think it's time for me to go, mom," I said, getting up from the breakfast table.
She must have waited for this prompt, because she finally responded with something different.
"This is your birthday present, son! A brand new backpack!"
She handed me the backpack, already packed for the journey. It was actually really sturdy and nice. She opened the compartments and showed me all the things inside. There were considerably more than what you'd find in the first Pokemon game, since I had to actually live and survive by myself out there in the world. There was much more practical stuff like clothing, food, etc. It was a relief. I can't believe that in the original show, everyone was just okay with the fact that a mom kicked her ten year-old son out into the world without any adult supervision. Weird.
She also gave me a wallet. It was a velcro wallet with bright yellow neon lining, fit for a ten year-old. It had a "P" on it that I assume stood for Pokemon. It was a glorious thing. And more glorious were bills of Pokedollars inside.
"It's 50,000 Pokedollars," she said. "If you need more, you know what to do."
"Uh, sorry mom. Remind me what to do again?"
She smiled and explained to me that I could "take out money" from the "PC," just like I could deposit and withdraw items. Ah, right. Game logic.
With all this done, and lots of hugs and kisses from my mom (which was nice), I headed out the door, and into Pallet Town.