It was dark. I was alone. The black world swallowed my last moments of feeling, thinking, before sliding into the unknown.
"Mother?" I called out, hours later. "Mother, I'm home!" When she died, I told her that I would come for her. I told her that I wanted to be with her. And then, I was there. I was wherever dead people went. Because I was dead. At least, that's how I had planned it. I soon learned that I had failed. How did I know? The blackness was lifting. Slowly, very slowly, it faded into a thick, grey fog. I became aware of whispers coming from all around me. I also recognized pain. Sharp and direct, it made me want to sit up from my current position and lie down forever at the same time. Those voices hit me from all sides. "Alive. Alive. Alive." They echoed over and over again. "Alive. Alive. Alive." I couldn't take it anymore. "Alive. Alive. Alive." I fought through the fog and opened my eyes. "Kill me. Please, I can't do this anymore. I want to go home," I managed to whisper. Only then did I realize the expressions on their faces. The girl was crying, and the boys didn't look too far from that state either. "What he said," I pointed up to the boy with the hat, "was right. I'm a terrible trainer and an even worse person. You would be doing the world a favor by finishing me off. I won't last long this way anyway,"
"Hey you know, I really am sorry. What I said was wrong. I judged you without even knowing who you were. I'm sure you were doing your best to provide for you and your Oshawott," the hat boy said, obviously having had a major attitude adjustment since earlier that day. His mistake was trying to lighten things up with the joke that changed everything. "Besides, it's not like you murdered Kelli Bell or anything!" he laughed. What he didn't see was the look of fear that entered my eyes as he said that because I was of course, not dead. That's right. At that time, the whole world thought that I was dead. Even just the memories of that night, the night when I, the Driftveil City gym leader and internationally known singing star, was robbed and almost killed by Team Rocket, scared me badly.
"She's not dead," I whispered for myself to hear.
"What?" the hat boy turned my way. "Ummm… could you repeat that?" I was doomed.
"She's… she's not dead," I said uncertainly but a bit louder. The other two trainers heard and turned my way.
"That's impossible. She's been missing for three years." the girl said, shocked, "Besides, how could anyone know? She's a mystery!"
"It's believed that Team Rocket burned her alive, but there wasn't enough evidence left to really prove anything," the green haired trainer proclaimed.
"Pan, pan!" Even the Pansage agreed.
"Yeah! I remember hearing about that! There was nothing left of her or her Oshawott, Ashley! Wait, Ashley?" Little did the trainers know that they were teaching me something that I knew first. They didn't know that I was the one who started the whole mess in the first place. But then the hat boy had to get curious. To tell the truth, I was scared. Scared that they would figure me out, that they would make a big deal out of me. I couldn't risk a comeback after three years. The world thought I was dead, and I intended to keep it that way, if I didn't kill myself first. If those people figured out who I was, it would mean certain death, or so I thought. In reality, what I was actually scared of wasn't death. It was trusting those strangers with my life. A pause filled the tent. The dry air got colder. "Isn't your name Kelli?"
"Yes. Kelli Bell."