Not So Ordinary
Chapter 1
Written by BTJE
I don't own Pokemon. Pokemon is owned by Nintendo, Gamefreak and Creatures Inc.
"Ring!" The peaceful silence of dawn was broken by a shrill ringing, the loud noise thrusting a sleeping Pokemon out of his slumber. He sat up on his bed blearily, mind still clouded with fading memories of dreams.
Jaws parting in a huge yawn, his partially asleep mind directed a paw to his bedside table, haphazardly slamming random items until the right button was hit, silencing his alarm clock.
Stretching his tense limbs, the Umbreon rubbed the last traces of sleep from his eyes before heading to the toilet to wash up.
This was Zenith Schroff, and he was an ordinary Umbreon. With the normal pitch black fur, red eyes, and yellow rings all in their respective places, there was little to nothing differentiating him from the rest of his species, and he was fine with that. Zenith liked to consider himself average and preferred to keep it that way, choosing to blend in with the crowd rather than stand out.
Freshened up, Zenith slipped into a red jacket that matched his faintly glowing eyes, flipping the hood over his head, his ears popping out from two holes he had cut in the fabric. Clipping on his utility belt, he descended the staircase that connected the two levels of his house together, heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. The bedrooms and toilet were on the top floor, while the living room, kitchen and dining room were on the bottom. Zenith lived with his mother, an Espeon, his dad passing away when he was young, too young to remember how he looked like.
Entering the kitchen, there was a plate of buttered toast placed on the kitchen counter, along with a pink sticky note that caught Zenith's eye. Since mom worked a low paying job in a convenience store on the other side of town, she was absent from Zenith's life most of the time, leaving the house early in the morning and returning home late.
Munching a piece of toast, Zenith read the note. Even though its written contents were the same every day, his mom still managed to come up with different ways to convey the same message every day.
Dear Zenith,
I'm coming home late.
Cook your own food, or eat out.
I love you. Take care.
Creative, huh? There's pocket money under the plate. Have a great day in school!
Zenith smiled at the well-written haiku, finishing off the last piece of bread and lifting the plate to retrieve a five-dollar bill. Placing the money in his wallet, he slung his school bag over his shoulders, setting off for the nearby public school that he attended, Kingdra High.