New story, which I hope not to abandon or put on indefinite hiatus.
This story is an SI in the real world, our world. To not spoil what I have planned, I'm just going to say that I have rather big ambitions, and that's going to mix in a little inspiration from one of my favorite stories on the site, but more than 90% of the idea comes from me.
This story takes place in France, in my country of origin, but it won't really be disturbing. Obviously, nothing that is said here is my life. Everything is invented.
I will add all characters when we will encounter them. So don't worry if you are just seeing OC
I hope you like this story, and tell me anything that's wrong, grammar or anything else, so I can improve the story as a whole.
With that, I'll leave you with the story.
Warning: I don't own pokemon, gamefreak and Nintendo do. But it would be a pleasure if I was the owner.
Monday, the start of the week, a day both feared and hoped for, symbolizes the beginning of routine for many. It is the day when the city wakes up to the gentle ringing of morning alarms, the streets gradually fill with workers who are preparing to face a new week of professional challenges. For them, it is a pleasure tinged with anticipation, an opportunity to earn a living and realize their ambitions.
On the other hand, for children and teenagers like me, Monday is synonymous with a rude awakening, a sweet escape from the weekend which is ending. My name is Arthur, and I am a high school student. I am currently in my second year, and each week that begins already counts towards my baccalaureate, this coveted diploma which will open the doors to my future. The hours spent in class seem to stretch endlessly, between subjects to study, homework to hand in, and the social challenges that accompany youth. It's a Monday that embodies both the burden of academic responsibilities and the promise of a better future.
You could say I should be exhausted...and I actually am. The workload on my shoulders is so overwhelming that I can no longer find time for myself.
I live in Paris with my two parents and my little sister. However, there was a time when our family situation was much less harmonious. Conflicts between my parents were commonplace, but perhaps by a happy coincidence, it seems that the years have calmed their disagreements, and now there is serenity in our home.
I hear my alarm go off at 7am. I wake up with a start, like every day, and I get up to turn off my alarm. My room has everything an average high school student needs: a desk, textbooks, a clothes rack and a bed.
At 7 a.m., the shrill sound of my alarm suddenly wakes me from my sleep, like every day. I get up quickly to silence this disturbing melody. My room is typical of an ordinary high school student, equipped with a desk full of textbooks, a rack for clothes, and a bed that offers me refuge every night.
After about ten minutes, I reached my school just before the bell rang, announcing the start of classes for the day. My first destination is the math room. The morning passes relatively quickly, and before I know it, it is noon, marking the end of classes for the morning.
After surviving this morning, I head to the school canteen with a feeling of relief. It's the long-awaited opportunity to meet up with my friends and finally enjoy moments of discussion and relaxation.
Do you know what a high school student fears most when going back to school? It's not being with your friends, finding yourself in a class where no one is familiar. Fortunately, the last part doesn't concern me. However, it turns out that I don't have any of my friends in my class, which means that the only time I can meet up with them is during lunch break.
I enter the school canteen, my tray in hand, and I quickly walk towards the table where all my friends are.
"Another morning to survive," said Mathéo, my long-time friend. We have shared our friendship since childhood, and we are lucky to have always gone to the same school.
"And I have one more assignment due next week. So I'm adding it to my other two assignments for next week," I said with a tone of annoyance, although I ironically knew that I I have the fewest things to do for next week
Élodie, whom I have known since last year, stares at me. "It's not you who is in your final year and has to take your baccalaureate in not even 8 months. I have a lot more things to do than you!" she tells us, then she scrutinizes each of us. "So stop complaining all because you're not ready for next year!" She pronounces these words with a hint of annoyance, although it is without real animosity, and even with a touch of irony.
You might ask yourself, "How can you know her when she's a year older than you?" And I would simply answer that we collaborated together as part of a school project, during an event organized within our high school.
We formed a small group of three friends, and our understanding was excellent. When one of us needed help, we were always happy to provide support.
The three of us shared a common passion: our love for the Pokémon franchise. It was a real connection between us, because our tastes were incredibly similar.
Our discussions often revolved around this franchise, whether to discuss the latest developments, the problems encountered, or even the fantastic aspects of the license. We regularly organized debates where everyone could express their point of view. However, this was only a small part of our activities. At the end of the week, we used to get together to play together and chat, thus strengthening our friendship.
But a lot of our discussions were about imagination, dreaming about what it would be like to live in the world of Pokémon, to become a Pokémon ourselves. We had a preference for the idea of playing a legendary Pokémon, no matter which one. It was an inexhaustible source of reveries and lively conversations between us.
Between Mathéo and I, we spent many hours playing Pokémon Mystery Dungeon, and these moments were truly exceptional. However, it has now been several years since a new Pokémon Mystery Dungeon game has seen the light of day, which sparks a certain feeling of nostalgia.
It is true that our meetings were becoming more and more rare, largely due to lack of time. However, the arrival of Élodie rekindled the passion that Mathéo and I shared for Pokémon, and it has now been a year since we tried to unite as much as possible around this franchise. She brought new energy to our group of friends.
"So," I began, "are you guys available this weekend? I discovered a brand new Pokémon Mystery Dungeon fangame, and it would be great if we could play it together. I'm really excited and looking forward to it! "
"Won't it be a fangame that just has no ending, and that only has one chapter at the moment?" asked Élodie
"No, don't worry, it's a fangame that was in development for a few years, and all the chapters were released at the same time. No need to worry!" I reassured
"Ah, that's great!" exclaimed Mathéo. "I'm looking forward to this weekend, it's been a while since we played fangames. What's it been like? Two-three months?" Arthur asked.
"Actually, it's been more like 4 months..." Élodie began. "They're not very frequent, and the problem is that the chapters take a long time to come out, which I understand," she continued . "I hope this one is amazing!"
"Based on the reviews, even though it's new, the fangame is incredible. It offers a deep story, new dungeon settings, and the addition of all Pokémon up to the 9th generation, that's like every Pokémon that exists!" I added with envy and impatience. It's true that fangames like this are rare.
During our lively exchange, a young man, in his last year of high school, suddenly approached. Caught up in our conversation, we hadn't noticed him before he spoke, a sign of our total immersion in the subject that captivated us.
"Ah, look who's here, technology enthusiasts! Are you still talking about that pathetic Pokémon license? Evolve a little, it's for kids." exclaimed Noam, the school's notorious provocateur, known for his scathing remarks. This is the worst student, the "popular" one who criticizes everything and everyone, without being free from faults himself.
Followed by his clique, his followers as we called them, he scrutinized us with his gaze. This scene was familiar to us, its constant presence on the lookout for an opportunity to confront us.
Almost no one, except his clique, liked him. He disrupted the general harmony, but acting against him meant exposing himself to problems with management. In this environment where violence is prohibited, we were often stuck facing his actions.
"Can you please leave us alone? No one here seems to appreciate your presence," Mathéo said, calmly, without any threat in his words.
"Everyone has the right to pursue their passions, just like you have yours," added Élodie, emphasizing the legitimacy of everyone to follow their interests.
"So just allow us to have a quiet chat, we're just looking to discuss in peace," I concluded,
Noam smirked. "You really think you'll get rid of me that easily? I do what I want, no one can change anything, as you well know, this is a violence-free environment." He let out a theatrical sigh and slowly approached us. "I will never get tired, you are my favorite targets…" Then, he walked away and headed towards a free table, leaving a feeling of uncertainty.
A few seconds after Noam left, Matéo spoke. "He will never leave us alone, and we know it," he said. "But no one can do anything about it, especially since…" He left his sentence hanging, leaving a feeling of helplessness in the face of the situation.
"That Noam is the son of the director is a fact that we all know," Élodie continued, emphasizing the relationship which further complicates our situation.
We stayed there, silent, eating. Every time he appeared, it always ended the same way, with us finishing our meal in heavy silence.
Then the bell rang, marking the start of afternoon classes. We got up, and I headed to my first class of the afternoon, which was English.
I was surprisingly the best at it. Everyone else had average grades, while I almost always got 20. So my teacher really liked me.
The English class went by quickly, as usual, and it was now time to move on to the history and geography class. Although the class was quite engaging, time seemed to stretch slightly more slowly. Then, the third and fourth hours were devoted respectively to scientific teaching (physics-chemistry) and scientific teaching (life and earth sciences).
However, the most captivating event occurred during my fourth hour.
"Please open your textbooks to page 123 and complete the first three questions. If you need assistance, please let me know, I will come and help you," ordered my science education teacher (SVT) with kindness.
She was a popular teacher, one could say. She was the type to organize fun activities, thus offering an effective and pleasant way to make us assimilate the lessons easily.
However, this is not the central point. As I tried to answer the second question, a feeling of dizziness suddenly took hold of me. My vision became blurry, but oddly enough, that wasn't the most important thing. The crucial part was that I was hearing voices in my mind. Voices ! It lasted only a few moments, but enough to cause shivers and push me to ask my teacher for permission to go to the bathroom.
When I was halfway there it started again. Feeling dizzy again, I stopped to regain my composure. Thinking that things were getting better, I resumed walking, but the voices started louder again, much more distinct this time. I heard expressions like: "Wait, I think I was wrong" or "I give up, I just don't understand". It was a disconcerting experience that added a strange dimension to my day.
Then, as suddenly as it had appeared, everything disappeared. A return to normality that left a strange imprint on my day.
I gathered my thoughts, a rush of uncertainty crossing my thoughts. Swallowing, I headed to the bathroom, seeking momentary refuge to process what had just happened.
I took refuge in one of the bathroom stalls, overwhelmed by an avalanche of questions. What had just happened? I tried to think peacefully, but the situation was getting stranger and stranger. It started like this, then it started again, and now I hear... No. No. No. No. No. It's not possible... A series of denials shook my thoughts, the reality becoming more and more difficult to accept.
I stand up, as if reality was slipping away from under my feet. However, I immediately sit up, still overcome by persistent dizziness. A fragile balance between disbelief and disorientation.
No, it's impossible... why? Why would I suddenly have the ability to hear... other people's thoughts? A questioning tinged with incomprehension and a growing dose of worry invaded me.
I raise my hand to my forehead, trying to dispel the confusion in my thoughts. An instinctive gesture of reflection, as I try to untangle the web of mysteries that has just crept into my life.
I have to think about it. For what ? I mean, what did I do? What is happening ? What is happening to me ? No humans could hear the thoughts of others... could they? It's an almost fantastic notion, reserved for film or book scenarios. A human can't, unless the government is hiding things from us, but that's unlikely. However, a strange reality creeps into my thoughts. What's happening to me then? A labyrinth of perplexities intertwines, evoking new concerns.
I am interrupted by the creaking of the bathroom door. A presence enters the room. I try to make out the sound of footsteps, sensing that the person is heading towards the next cabin. I feel like she is completely unaware of my presence.
"But what's happening to me!" this person exclaims with a mixture of confusion and concern. "Why do I suddenly feel dizzy!?" The voice echoes in the room, charged with an echo of perplexity which mixes strangely with my own inner questions.
Wait, is it contagious? Is this some kind of new illness that's driving me crazy? I asked myself, expressing growing concern
"And explain to me why I can smell someone smoking on the other side of the building!" she exclaims, surprise tinged with a touch of incomprehension. His tone betrays both astonishment and intrigue in the face of this new sensory reality which shakes his certainties.
...no more doubt, something is happening, but what ?
And There you go ! This is the end of the first chapter! So, what did you think?
Mathéo: Personally, I remember that something is happening with my best friend.
Arthur: I wonder what's happening to me... You don't know what it's like to hear other people's thoughts!
Élodie: It's so great ! Is there no way to have the same things as you?
Hmmmm, rather similar opinions between the three of them... on the other hand Élodie... who thinks only for herself.
See you soon!