Out of the Blue

From the perspective of today's me, childhood years have flew past me. The more recent years have left clearer memories with me, though the event that really left a dent in my past wasn't until I was ten.

Ten year old was the age that most children, like Shadow, went on their courageous Pokemon journeys. I, for one, was way too dependent and scaredy to set off on my own, and my parents couldn't care less anyway - walk around the town or the vicinity, and I can bet you can't find anyone who's less interested in Pokemon. Indeed, I wholeheartedly doubt whether I have their DNA in my very blood.

What did I do at ten then? Just like every other Pokemon-indifferent child, going to academic school in Jubilife City, studying language and arithmetics while those other cool kids went to the trainers' school learning about potions and burns. I did usually watch TV at home while my parents weren't noticing though - the news and programs gave me a good deal of insight. In spite of my dependence, father was extremely determined to train me as a macho man and left me out in the cold to walk to school, from our hometown, Floaroma Town, to the big city, every single day. Initially I ended up late most of the time, thanks to all the immature wailing and hesitating at our front door. But eventually I would get used to that, being left with no other choice.

You see, albeit apathetic about Pokemon, my parents did acknowledge the dangers of walking outside on my own, so thank Arceus they did give me packets of Repel to bring along when getting to school. I learnt from the TV program "Getting to Grips" that bushes were the wild Pokemon's dwelling spots so I could avoid them every time I cross the route, but the Ravaged Path was where danger really lay. Of course I actually wish I could come face-to-face with a wild Pokemon or two, but I just couldn't risk my life for that, right? That was when the cumbersome Repels came in handy, just to shove off those unknown species in the cave.

And it was one of those ordinary evenings when it happened, out of the blue, out of the dark.

That day was a usual day, a really usual one. I walked to school like I did every single day, got bullied by that roughneck and got told off by the teacher. No big deal. At lunch, I dug into my bag for my sandwich.

"Stop," came a coarse voice while a meaty palm held my arm.

"What." I responded without a single thought or the slightest glare.

"What?" he guffawed. "WHAT?" He harshly pushed my hand away so hard that I staggered. He snatched my bag in a split second.

"Stop it," I asserted calmly, suppressing my pounding heart.

"Well," replied James. "Why should I anyway?"

The next series of actions occurred in a single flash. I stood up, reached my tiny hands for the leather bag in James' big fat hand. A second later, I was on the floor.

I didn't wail like I would have if I had still been six. I just sat there and watched the bully flip the bag over and drop everything in it onto the floor: the lunch box that fell open to ruin my lunch, my books and stationery, my repels...everything. "No lunch for you!" that hateful guy gloated as he left the room.

I silently packed my stuff back into the bag, without a word. I held the sense of humiliation in my own mind until I left school.

As usual, I was heading home from school after a tiring day of hateful schoolwork. I didn't wander around, especially in that scary cavern - how would I dare anyway? As I headed into the dark path and turned on my flashlight, I reached into the bag for the repels at the very bottom. Past the books, past the box...was nothing.

My heart skipped a beat. I reached again, pushing aside everything else. Nothing. I shook the bag violently in hopes of it surfacing. I flipped the bag over, like James had done, staring hard as everything succumbed to gravity and hit the stone floor hard. No bottle.

I panicked and memories went through my mind just as sweat poured throuh my skin. Then I understood. The repel must have been dropped somewhere I didn't notice when James did that. I jerked and turned back, before realising school had been closed. How was I supposed to go home through this cavern without a repel?

I fell onto my knees and thought hard while I re-packed everything. In the end, I knew I had no choice but to take a risk unless I wanted to sleep on the streets. I silently prayed to Arceus. Oh Arceus, why?

Nervously hugging my bag tight, I took a step carefully, mutedly. Then another one. Every step was hastier and more nervous than the other one as I journeyed into the dangerous zone. A seemingly infinite period of time later, I saw the exit of Ravaged Path.

Thank Arceus I made it. At least I was still safe! I broke into a run, like a chamion athlete, towards the light coming from the bright moon outside. Then I took a deep breath of relief as my heart stopped pounding hard, and the cool air gushed into my lungs and caressed my skin. I'd made it.

Except...a weird sensation.

Something wasn't right. I felt a stinging sensation on the back of my right shoulder. "Oh Arceus, no," I whispered. "No." I slowly turned my head.

Then I gaped in shock. What I saw was a blue-purple bat-like Pokemon, flapping its wings, with an eye-less face in the vicinity of a few inches and razor-sharp fangs sunken straight into - my back. "Arrrrrrgh!" I shrieked. "No!" I shook violently to get rid of it. I jumped up and down, throwing my hard bag onto the frightening creature, to no avail. Slowly and gradually, I felt as if I was running out of energy and my eyesight, bit by bit, became blurry. I slumped onto the floor, just like the pitiful dog Pokemon, four years ago. As the scary yet foreign thought of death crept into my mind, the dog did as well. I remembered an episode of the TV introducing this Pokemon, named Houndour, which had made my memories ache so badly. I remembered that legend had it that this hound species came straight from hell, its evolved form being an embodiment of death itself. Did that encounter four years ago symbolise something? Did it have anything to do with this?

On the spur of the moment, something pounded on my back, and all of a sudden I was free from that unnerving sensation. What had happened? Why did I feel better? Was I safe? Numerous questions popped up in my head in spite of my whole body being still numb. Fortunately, the numb feeling was gone as well, in - maybe several seconds? All was left was exhaustion.

Yet I had to see and know what'd happened. Lacking energy, I tried hard to gather strength and pushed the ground to turn my body and look at my back. Another shock came.

A dark Houndour, as though it crept out from my memory and my mind, was on the ground in front of me. Facing that bat, it lept in the air, opened its jaw wide to bite it. The bat dodged, doing the same thing, successfully closing its jaws on the Houndour's shoulder. Yet it didn't let go; instead, it sank its fangs onto the dog, causing it to suddenly look awfully painful, as if being burnt a hell-fire - despite being the symbol of hell-fire itself.

"No!" I yelled from the bottom of my heart, yet I didn't have the energy to let out a voice. I was greatly relieved when Houndour broke free, turned and let out a small stream of fire that seemed to hit the bat hard. I was choked by the pungent smell of the fire and began to cough. However, when I looked again, the bat had emerged from the fire and screamed. Houndour, looking startled, stood still and shook its head, unable to counter. Therefore I had to shout out loud to the dog. "Watch out!" I screamed. The dog raised its head, only to be hit by the dazzling wave of sound pulses originating from the annoying bat's fanged mouth. Houndour growled and panted, unable to focus.

I didn't know what had happened to the dog, and the only thing I could do was to hope it was alright. A second later, it raised its head again, the skull-like adornment glittering under the moonlight. It opened its mouth wide and a purple smog leaked out - but it apparently wasn't aiming towards the bat at all. It simply went somewhere else, floating mid-air and disappeared. Houndour grunted, then lept forward to bite the bat again, yet it tripped over itself and banged onto the floor, hard. I found my energy and crawled forward to take a gander at the dog. "Are you alright?" I whispered into its furry ears desperately, looking into its eyes, hesitating whether to touch it. "What's happened?" I didn't notice again when the bat Pokemon promptly swooped down from the air, straight at us.

That very moment, the dark Pokemon jumped onto its feet, albeit its legs trembling. It kicked me with its hind legs, causing me to fall on my back, while it faced the bat. It leaned on its front legs, gathering every drop of its energy, then all of sudden, let out a long, wild, hound-like roar that was probably heard by everyone nearby. I lowered my head, closed my eyes and clasped my hands on my aching ears to bear the incredible noise.

Then it ended. I looked up again, only to see the purple back of the bat flapping its wings, flying into the dark sky.

I hastily walked forward towards the dark quadrupedal figure, which once again slouched on the grassy ground with a heavy thud. This action immediately looked familiar in my eyes, and something flashed through my mind. I turned the Pokemon over to reveal its red underbelly and stared into its dark, determined pupils. It grunted. As I scrutinised the Pokemon, a vivid memory appeared in my mind. A memory that had etched into my mind, causing so much suffering. And there it was, the same alienated, lone Houndour, resting on my weak, trembling arms. I knew it. I just knew.

That moment, the whole of me was flooded by sorrow and sorriness. I could not contain the apology in me.

"It's...you?" I whispered as tears poured into my eyes. "You're still alive?"

"Houn," responded the Pokemon in a weak voice.

"I'm sorry," I said hesitantly, not sure whether it could comprehend. "I wanted to help you...my mum just didn't let me." Then I knew what to do, at that moment. "I'll get you this time."

I must do that. I was a frail ten-year-old at that time, with my energy drained by a wild Pokemon, but it's amazing how strong determination can make a person, isn't it? I lifted the dog in my arms - it was just slightly heavy - and headed home, step by step. Every step my stiff feet made was like climbing a mountain to me.

As I finally made it back to Floaroma Town on our doorstep and rang the bell, I fell and passed out.