Blog Fifteen: When I Grow Up

There have been plenty of occasions on this journey when I thought my life was over. The robotic Beedrill, Gideon at the museum, the robotic Golem, collapsing caves, the robotic Electrode, facing down Buzz in his office, the army of robotic Pokémon.

Basically, a lot of dark shit has happened to me. However, in all of those situations, there was always some way out, some way to stop the unfortunate premature death from happening. It wasn't until this week that I actually had a gun shoved in my face, that I had someone with their finger on a trigger ready to blow my brains, and that was the first time I had to seriously stop and consider the possibility that, in a matter of seconds, my life would likely be over and there was no way out of it.

Obviously, I didn't die. This hasn't turned into some weird paranormal blog, my (after)life hasn't gotten that insane. Yet I am not so bold as to pretend that having a gun aimed at your face doesn't put things into perspective. It does. A lot of things went through my head when that happened. A lot. But, oddly and sadly enough, it's the moments that come afterwards that really get you thinking.

I'm not talking about the giant battle in an ice cave against a team of reality stars and their mutant Pokémon. I don't think that's what they call a "universal experience". I do think I can speak for most people though when I say that getting threatened with a gun really makes you question your life choices. And no one has more cause to question their choices than I do.

I'm a mess. That's one thing I realised this week. I really am a mess. First exhibit: Paige evolved. She is finally a Pidgeot, woohoo! This is something I used to dream about ever since I first got her. A few months ago, it was all I was looking forward to in life. Yet when that moment finally arrived, I had never been more frightened in my entire life. And that includes the gun.

Why? Because I'm meant to be a hero. Everything that is happening in Kanto right now comes back to me. I am meant to ride Paige into some epic battle and save the world or die trying, all because an old rock says so.

But I am not a hero. I am selfish, I am spiteful, I am bitter, but most importantly, I never had any interest in heroics. I never watched one of those movies or read a book that had a bunch of spirited teen warrior leads and thought 'Gee, that looks like a boatload of fun, I want to be just like that!' It all seemed mad to me, and when I set out on this journey I never once hoped I'd come across some world-ending threat that only I could save. If that is your goal in life, you need to get your head checked, IMMEDIATELY.

For whatever godly reason though, I am supposed to be a hero. Why it had to be me, I will never know. It is a matter of fate, and you don't get any say in the things life throws your way; you just have to roll with the punches. I learnt to roll with living in a collapsing house with a stressed-out mother and clocked out father, and so I've begun to roll with all this heroism stuff.

Yet there is one thing that is holding me back from that. I am not just selfish, spiteful, bitter and bitchy. I'm scared. I'm really, truly, unapologetically terrified. I'm scared of losing, I'm scared of dying, which are the same thing, really. I don't want to be the person that flies into the final battle for the good of the world. That's not what I want. Those people don't exist outside of fantasy. There are people I've met who have accepted this as their normal, but no one should live like that.

When Paige evolved, I thought I was about to die. We were in the middle of a battle (just as a side note, it seems that Indigo Dreams has decided to do away with the pretence as their producer was the one holding the gun to my head. Probably best I don't get into that any further) when the evolution started. I was excited for approximately a second before the fear set it. My brain decided that the prophecy had come true and it was happening right there and then. The ancient rock doodlings of a deranged ghost girl (there's a sentence no one ever thought they'd have to write) unfortunately didn't come attached with any post notes explaining everything that wouldn't fit on the cave wall. There's no date for this battle, no location, no dress code; just a simple, vague invitation to my destiny, cash bar not included.

I shouldn't try to make fun of this. The simple truth is I thought that was my prophecy, I got scared, and I screwed up. I might have gotten away intact if I had just focussed, but I slipped up, and, to cut a long story short for the sake of protecting my current location, now Sandy and I are separated and I have no idea where she is or if she is still alive.

I don't care that I let myself down. I care about her. Sandy has been through so much – too much – because of me, because she saw me as a friend whereas I always saw her as a companion. I thought we had sorted our issues, but a few days ago it became clear that it isn't so easy to move on from what I've done. I want to find her if only to say sorry for all I've done and own up to the fact she wouldn't be in any of this if it wasn't for me.

Being afraid does that. Have I been afraid this whole journey? I don't think so. At first it was ignorance, then it was anger. It wasn't until this fight started to become an unavoidable reality and not something I could simply choose to be involved in that the weight of it started to hit me.

Fear can manifest in many ways for many reasons. I don't want to psychoanalyse myself more than I already do, but all my reasons for rebelling have been fear of one thing or another. Fear of losing my dreams, fear of failure, fear of becoming something I'm not, fear of dying.

Yet it's become clear that everything they've all said to me – Damian, Amanda, Evelyn, Janine, everyone – it's all true. We might not be in this war if I hadn't been so afraid of the thought of being in a war. Amanda, Buzz, Gideon, we could've stopped them by now. Or maybe we'd all be dead, who knows. Maybe we all would have fucked up – I mean, Red was on the elite's side from the very beginning, and it took them months to stop Team Rocket, and look what happened to the country in the process.

I'm getting distracted.

Really, I was afraid of staying in that city and letting my hatred build up more than it already had. I didn't leave home for anyone else; that was all for me. I left home to get vengeance, or revenge, one of the two. There's a difference to them, I think. Fighting Red, getting one over Chloe, same thing, in the end, it doesn't really matter. I had a goal at the start of this, one that doesn't match the one I have to have now. But it certainly wasn't to try and be a hero… at least, not in the sense I am now.

People can't flick a switch and become someone else overnight. No one's like that, no matter how hard they pretend to be. I tried to force being a hero on myself, to pretend to be someone tactical and prepared and good and… nice, I suppose. And I went and fucked that up.

This is a role I was born to play, but I have been using other people's scripts so far to try and get me there. No one told me how to do this, I'm just guessing, and it's clearly not working. I don't have time to wait and learn though. I have to adapt, but I don't really know how.

Which means… I don't know what it means. I don't have the answers this time (if I ever really had them in the first place). Sorry to any readers hoping I could wrap this up in a neat little bow, putting one week's adventures behind me and setting things up nicely for next time. This was a hard lesson to accept, one that has not just hurt me physically but hurt my relationships with everyone I know. All I know is I need to grow up and adapt quickly, otherwise Sandy is going to die and this is all going to be for nothing.

I can't live up to the lofty expectations of champions, or the even loftier expectations of gods (who the fuck can?), but if I can live up to the expectations of my friends, that might just be enough for me to pull this thing off. I just have to stop wishing for this all to be over. I guess the hero is the person who actually ends the war rather than waiting for it to be over?

Alaska

P.S. If anyone happens to see a blonde girl, potentially with an uncomfortable look on her face surrounded by a tight-lipped middle-aged woman, please let me know. We really need all the help we can get.