Chapter 5
The Beauty in Lies
Ash was pulled away from his sleep. His eyes opened. His body felt horrible, like it could barely move. He felt all sorts of machines inside of him, invading every orifice of his body, like they were as much a part of him as his organs. Monitors were attached to his fingers and chest. Tubes were inside of his mouth, throat, nose, and penis. There was a bag attached to his anus. He was completely naked, covered in some kind of disgusting gel that preserved his body. He was screaming unintelligible words that not even he understood. It was like being born again.
Ash wanted to move. He wanted to get up and pull the machinery out of him, but he was unable. He felt like he could move mere hours ago, but now he couldn't. Men rushed into the room where they heard Ash screaming. "He's back! He's back! It's a miracle, he's back!" "Get me out of here." Ash said. The attendants ignored him and continued to talk amongst themselves about how miraculous this was. That was when Ash realized that they couldn't take him off of the machines. They were the only things keeping him alive. He overheard one nurse whisper to another. "How long do you think he has?" "Maybe a month at most. Probably less." Ash knew that he wasn't supposed to hear this, but it made him feel awful. He awakened with only one month left to live. "What a cruel joke." He thought to himself.
Ash tried to go back to sleep. He tried to imagine his friend, Pikachu. He thought about Professor Oak and Brock. He wore himself out trying to bring back his world of pokemon, but it didn't work. It was like a chain was holding him back. He could picture pieces of this world, but never truly live in it. He was trapped as a paralyzed rag doll in this world, the real world. His imagination was useless.
Once all the hospital staff left, Ash saw someone he recognized from the dream world enter his room. It was his mother. She was older than how she looked in Ash's mind. Her hair was graying, her face had some wrinkles, and she looked thinner and weaker. "Ash? Baby, is that you?" She said. "Hi, Mom. What's going on?" Ash said. She started to cry. She didn't answer her son's question. She only cried tears of joy and hugged her son. She didn't even care about getting the bizarre gel that coated Ash's body on her clothes. "Oh Ash, I was so worried about you. You've been on those machines for years and… Oh, I thought you'd be a vegetable forever. Your… Your father would be proud." Ash remembered his father, Giovonni Ketchum. He died all the way back when he was a child. Pieces of Ash's former life, the one from before he went into a coma came rushing back to him. It was a surreal experience, remembering memories from two different lives.
"What happened to Pikachu? Is he okay?" Ash said. "Pikawho, now?" Delia said. "Pikachu. He was my best friend. He's still here, right?" "I don't know anyone named Pikachu." Delia said. She started to suspect that her son was still delirious from his coma. "Pikachu. He's a pokemon. I started out with him when I began my pokemon journey." Delia only gave him more confused looks. That was when the truth hit Ash. There were no pokemon in the real world.
"I need to go back." Ash thought. "I need to get out of here. I don't care about truth or lies or any of that shit. I need to go back." He heard a voice in his head. It was his own voice, a menacing, painful voice that was a side of him that he did not want to think about. "Why do want to go back? Life is beautiful." "There's nothing beautiful about this." Ash thought. The voice in his head countered this. "Really? Do you have any idea how worried Mom was? She used an experimental drug that cost her thousands of dollars to test on you. It was her only shot at seeing you again. A mother's reunion with her son… Is that not beautiful enough for you?"
"Truth… Is the truth really more beautiful than artifice?" Ash thought. He shook his head. He thought about everything that he was leaving behind. A whole world filled with colorful creatures, a society of trainers who developed irreplaceable bonds with their companions, and most of all, his friends. "No. This can't be right. This has to be a lie." Ash thought. The voice in his head, the voice of reason and reality countered. "Grow up. It's time to throw away your toys and live like a man. You're a man now, right?" Ash tilted his head to his exposed penis. "I'm a man, I guess. It's time to act like one."
A man must be strong, strong enough to accept any reality and live with it. A man must have courage, the courage to accept any disaster and live with it. A man must endure and fight through whatever pain he has and live. In Ash's mind, he was still a boy, though. He had the body of a man, a weak, frail, paralyzed man, but in the end, he was still a boy.
"I want to go back." Ash thought. "You can't. You're back in the real world, the true world, the world that is truer than any other world, that there is. You can't go back to your lies, not after everything that Mom went through." He thought about his mother and turned to her. She was still overjoyed at seeing her son awake again. "Mom?" "Yes, honey?" "See that machine, the one that's pumping liquid into my arm?" "Oh, you mean the Hopenol?" She said. "Take it out." "But Ash, you need it to stay awake. Your body metabolizes it fast. You need a constant supply." She hugged him. "Honey, I know it hurts, but you need it." "It hurts in more ways than you can imagine." Ash said.
Ash was tired, but he was unable to sleep. His eyes were heavy, but he could never truly rest. Hopenol prevented anyone using it from sleeping, ever. It was like a permanent insomnia, a denial of any sort of rest. Ash tried in vain to close his eyes and think of his dream world. He tried to imagine himself walking again. He thought of himself running across the beaches of Cinnabar Island, climbing up Mount Moon, and swimming through The Seafoam Islands. None of it felt the same, though. It was like trying to paint The Sistine Chapel with only yarn and saliva. It was never going to work.
Ash thought about Kanto, but then he thought about his mother. He wanted to return badly and he knew how. He just had to cut off his supply of Hopenol. "That's selfish, though. She went through a lot to get me back here." He thought. Then, he remembered Pikachu. He knew that he was still alive somewhere within his heart. "I'm coming for you, Pikachu. Don't worry. You're not dead. You'll never die." He looked back up at the IV bag pumping Hopenol into his body. Hope had to fight friendship. Reality had to fight artifice. But which side was right?
-o0o-
Help
-o0o-
Save me
Chain me
Grab me
Stab me
Teach me
Reach me
Bruise me
Use me
Hug me
Love me
Break me
Rape me
Heal me
Feel me
Kiss me
Kill me