February 25th, 2018
So, big surprise. I… omitted something incredibly important from Friday's memoir. I probably should have included it but… either way, I think this is going to take a lot out of me to write, as it was yet another… truly awful experience that I cannot hope to get out of my head. But it must be discussed. There isn't a whole lot to what happened but, it was rather important nonetheless.
In January of 2015 I took a small three-week job to take care of an apartment in Hearthome for a coordinator who was staying in town for some big festival of sorts. I don't entirely recall those details specifically. I do know her name was Dawn, and she was awfully sweet to me. She paid very generously, and allowed me to take up room and board there while keeping everything clean. She was out most hours of the day, so the few interactions I had were with her Pokemon, whom I also cooked for. My family stayed in Snowpoint for the time being, of course. I wasn't about to drag them halfway across the region for three weeks only to cram them into an apartment much smaller than even our home.
Now what was so eventful about this little adventure of mine? Well, nothing really. Not to start. I did my part, worked around the clock to keep things in order and earn that incredibly generous pay I was being given, and… that was about it. Until the third week, in which Nero decided to make the trek down south and pay me a visit, with the intention of bringing me home once all this was over. Of course I knew this was going to happen. This wasn't just some decision he made. That was never the issue.
It was just… after he arrived. The two of us made a quick run to the market to grab a few things for that night's dinner, and I decided to take a small detour to a fruit stand while Nero fetched the milk.
And then I saw him, or at least, recognized someone that resembled him. Michael was there, in the market. Mind you, he looked like a shadow of his former self. His hair was a mess, as though he had just woken up. And he had… sores on his face. His eyes were red, he looked tired he… he looked simply terrifying. Not even in the morning after finishing an entire case of beer the night before did he look so out of sorts. Nothing even close. It was so alien to me, to see him that way. And I suppose I stared for too long, because he saw me as well.
He stormed toward me. I tried to quickly duck away back into the crowd, but who was I supposed to fool, least of all him? I always stick out like the sorest of thumbs. He gained on me quickly, grabbing me by the-
...Grabbing me by the arm and hurrying me into a nearby alleyway. Of course I struggled. I was absolutely terrified. I thought, in that very moment, this was his opportunity to hurt me. To exact his revenge on me. For testifying against him, even though I had every right. I still stole his life away. I took it all because he hurt me. He hurt a lot of other people and Pokemon too, of course. But I reaped the benefits, even though… I deserved none of that really. Nobody did. And here he had me by the arm, his grip firm like a vice. I called out indiscriminately at the time, and he was quick to put his other hand over my muzzle. Thinking back, it didn't even cross my mind to call out for Nero, but I digress.
He led me through what was likely the back door of a warehouse unit, still ajar with a broken chain dangling from it, likely the only thing that held it in place before it had been clearly cut through. The room was incredibly small, a few crates and containers lining the walls, and a much more massive, but still sealed door cutting us off from what was likely the rest of the warehouse. It was quiet, it was discreet, it was a mess, and it was the perfect place for him to do whatever he was about to do that I feared so greatly. Finally releasing me, he yanked the door shut, the flimsy latch clicking in the process.
Yet, as soon as he had done that, before he'd even turned around, he fell to his knees and broke down. He wasn't aggressive, he didn't lunge at me or hurt me further. He simply cried. I merely stood there for the time being, afraid to approach him. I had nowhere else to go, as he kneeled right before my only escape route. His sobbing was inconsolable, muttering words I couldn't even understand. I had seen him shed a tear only a few times before this. He usually possessed such a calm and stoic personality, and yet here he was blubbering mess, unable to even form coherent sentences.
After what felt like several minutes of this, he finally turned around with his arms outstretched, beckoning I… hug him. Still the tears rolled down his cheeks even as he asked, but I stood my ground. I couldn't go anywhere near him. I didn't trust him. And even as I shook my head, he wept harder, almost like a child. Finally, as he put his head in his hands I heard him whisper "I'm sorry," over and over. For yet more minutes on end he repeated this, up until he began to settle down, regaining somewhat of a hold on his composure, finally able to speak again.
"Alright, I won't touch you, Nanani." was the first thing he said. I was still standing there, not having moved a muscle since he released my arm, as much as I wanted to retreat into one of the corners of the room behind a box or… something. He continued, however, talking about how he had gotten here in the first place. His admission was first, telling me up front about all the things he had done that even I didn't know about. He told me how… crime had simply been a part of his life since he was a teennager, and it was all he knew. He told me about how he had managed to escape his final warrant, and even at this moment in time continued to evade capture. He told nothing but the truth, from what I could tell. Perhaps I'm not the best at reading lies on someone's face, but his showed no hesitation. No fear or apprehensiveness in what he said. He was very upfront, even though I never asked a single question. But I did listen. Very intently at that.
Then, he ended all of this with one final apology. This time, not even for my forgiveness but… he told me that I had to know that none of this was my fault. And, even though I thought I had convinced myself of such a notion so long ago… perhaps I wasn't so convinced.
I cried too.
Several minutes later, he told me one last thing. He told me that… he had no intention of spending his life behind bars. He told me his… life was over. And that was when I finally spoke. I told him he could still make good on the things he had done, try and make up for his mistakes or… simply serve his time.
And that's when he drew a knife. I must admit, all the fear returned the instant I saw steel, but it wasn't because of what I had said. I could hear scratching at the door, quickly followed by a furious bark. Nero was on the other side. He had tracked us there, somehow. And as Michael turned the knob, I panicked. I figured he would attack Nero, or even the other way around I
I don't know what I was thinking at this moment. All I know is what happened.
Michael saw an Umbreon pushing through the small opening in the door as he pulled it open. In a flash, he looked to me with an expression I had then confused for panic, but now I know it was something much deeper. He then dropped the knife, and clutched his hands to his chest as Nero lunged for his neck. He didn't… even try to stop the attack. And then he was gone. That was it.
I only remember staring on in utter disbelief, frozen where I stood. Nero hurried toward me immediately after… doing what he had done, but I didn't hear a thing he said. I was in such a legitimate shock I… even now I can't remember what happened next in that moment.
I do recall returning to the apartment. I do recall the many night terrors I experienced in the following weeks. I recall filing yet another report on behalf of… Nero, and Michael. I had to prove that… Nero had simply rescued me. And I wish… I wish I hadn't. I know it's what Michael wanted. He accepted his fate, and I suppose I've accepted it as well.
But, even still. He was murdered. And I was witness to it. No such thing that ever happened in my life - nothing he put me through haunts me quite as much as this moment does to this very day.