Despair’s Hope
A Pokemon Fanfiction by Saya

It was a bright summer morning the day I decided to take a walk in down town Cerulean City.  It was warm outside—around 75 degrees Fahrenheit I think—and the sun shone brightly down from the sapphire sky, casting its golden rays upon the waking world beneath it.  Just the same I pulled on my well worn over coat and drew it tightly up to my chin, shivering slightly as I did.  I was always cold now. 

Stalking stiffly towards the front door of the small, plain apartment I had inhabited for the last couple of months, I untangled my pale left hand from between the immense folds of my black coat, gripped the cool metal doorknob, and flicked my wrist slightly downward.  The door swung open slowly with a soft click.  I shivered slightly as the warm air from the outside world washed over my clothing swathed body.

I stepped out into the warm sunshine, hunching myself lower into my over coat so my face ended up half hidden in its high collar.  As soon as this was accomplished I began to walk, out the door of my room—locking it securely behind me—and into the hustling crowds of people flowing aimlessly over the down town sidewalk.

As I cast my dark eyes down at the paved sidewalk beneath my heavily booted feet, my dirty blond hair fell forward, shading the upper half of my pale face.  I avoided all eye contact with the general public as they made their own ways through the city streets.

Cerulean was a large city with many, many people—and Pokemon too—rushing this way and that.  Their colorful clothing flashed past my over sensitive eyes in a hurried blur of color as they dodged vehicles inching their way along the crowded streets while honking their horns vigorously as if they could make the line of cars ahead of them move any faster.  People were shouting, rushing, talking, laughing, everything, as they went.  Some people sported expensive clothing.  Some carried a multitude of shopping bags with many children huddled around their feet, tugging at each other’s hair and laughing as they ran shrieking from the playful wrath of the one they had offended.  Others carried a Pokemon or two on their shoulders, and held themselves higher than the rest, a sure sign of an over confident Pokemon Trainer, something I had once been.

The buildings of the city were immense as well, soaring hundreds of feet into the polluted air, commanding the total attention of sightseers with their great looming shadows cast over many square yards of ground.  There were shops selling books, shops selling clothing and candy, shops selling food and just about every manner of item you could wish for.  Street vendors called out to the bustling crowd, attempting to catch the attention of a willing buyer.  All this I had already seen so none of it was new to me.  I locked my gaze firmly on the ground beneath my feet, lest I fall and run into someone.

Suddenly, a startling loud noise sounded right next to my left ear.  I didn’t even flinch.  It was a car horn.  I raised my gaze casually, hoping not to attract any attention in this great throng of people, in order to see what the disturbance was.

I lifted my eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of a large dark-blue station wagon as it swerved sharply to the right, narrowly avoiding something or someone whom was darting foolishly across the busy road.  As the car passed I saw what it was the vehicle had so narrowly missed.  She was a slight young girl, around seven or so, with pale skin, flushed a healthy pink, and flaming amber hair that glistened brightly in the early morning sun pulled back into a sloppy ponytail at one side of her head.  She darted nimbly across the street her bright red T-shirt and jean shorts that complimented her hair, flashing by in a blur as she ran.  She leaped onto the sidewalk and stood, flicking her bright green eyes around her nervously as if searching for something.

That was when my curiosity got the better of me.  I began to approach her.  “You’re as curious as a cat, Danielle Kupeman!” My mother used to tell me almost everyday of my fifteen years, or the thirteen years I had lived with her.  If my all-too technical brother Brad happened to be in the room this would then lead to a long discussion on how curious a cat exactly was, and if the term “as curious as a cat” actually fit its meaning.  At this point I would usually exit the room, rolling my eyes as I went.

“Excuse me?” I called nervously, as I neared the young red head.  The girl’s head shot over to stare at me with those big, innocent green eyes.  She began to hop from one foot to the other, as if nervous. 

“Are you talking to me?” The child asked straightforwardly, staring me directly in the eyes.  I glanced quickly away.  No one had looked me in the eyes directly since…then.

I nodded slowly.

“What do you want to talk to me for?” She asked curiously, cocking her head slightly to the side, causing her lone red pigtail to flop lazily onto her right shoulder.

My mom was right.  I was too curious.  “Well,” I began timidly, raising my eyes to meet the young girl’s big ones.  “I was just wondering what a little girl like you was…”

At this her innocent face twisted into a scowl, her small hands moving to clasp each other tightly behind her slim back.  “I’m not little!” She muttered fiercely, defiantly staring me down, daring me to argue.  “I’m seven!”

“Of course you’re not little,” I corrected myself with all seriousness.  Secretly I was trying not to smile.  Children usually did this when they reached that age; I knew I had.  Brad had too.  “You are a big girl now, aren’t you.”

The girl nodded gravely, her red ponytail bobbing up and down as she moved.  Then she grinned, revealing pearly white rows of teeth with a gap where a front tooth had gone missing.  “I’m Misty! What did you want to ask me anyway?”

“Danielle Kupeman,” I nodded to my new acquaintance.  “I, um… just wanted to ask you what you were doing out here by yourself.” I was bolder now, but still listening intently to every sound that passed me by.  A flock of Spearrow were screeching high above me in the vast sky, occasionally joined by a Fearrow or two; the whistling and shrieking of the wind through the buildings; the crinkling of paper held by people out in the streets; the constant low murmur of cars passing me by on the road. 

The young girl, Misty, glanced quickly down at the pavement, staring at it as if it had suddenly become very interesting, scuffing her red sneakered foot in the dirt, her hands still firmly clasped behind her red T-shirt. “Well, it’s a secret,” She said loudly.  My hopes fell.  I was just too curious, I told myself, I had no business butting into other people’s matters.  And yet, this girl fascinated me. Maybe it was her joyful attitude, or the pure innocence of someone who still expects only good to come from life that captured my attention.  I didn’t know. 

Almost immediately after this thought had crossed my mind Misty’s head snapped up and a wide, joyful grin spread across her young face, “But I can tell you if you want!”  She suddenly began to hop from one foot to the other, glancing this way and that is if she had suddenly remembered what she was doing, apparently looking for something.  This girl was certainly energetic.

“Sure,” I shrugged.  Like I said before, I was curious.  This spunky seven year-old seemed so excited and full of life that it just infected me.  I found myself beginning to feel excited too.

Misty quickly rose up on the tips of her red sneakers, cupped a pale hand around her mouth and leaned forward, bouncing excitedly.  She was the picture of someone who knew a grand and wonderful secret, and just wanted someone to tell it to, “I’m running away from my sisters!” She whispered loudly in my ear, grinning up into my face as she moved back onto her feet.

“Running away from your sisters?” I asked my voice suddenly full of concern.  Misty cautiously glanced up and down the street before nodding her head vigorously in agreement, “But why?”

At this Misty suddenly began to giggle, small bursts of laughter rocking her whole joyful little body.  She clapped her hands over her mouth as if to hide or stifle the incessant giggles wracking her entire body.  She glanced up at me and her grin spread wider.  Just looking at that happy child began to infect me and I soon found myself wanting to laugh right along with her; something I had not felt for a long time.  A small smile escaped my lips. It was a real true smile, none of those fake, strained smiles I had given in the past few months.

“I…I switched…” The girl attempted to gasp out through her giggles.  Whatever she had done, she though it was pretty funny. “I switched…Daisy, Violet, and Lily’s show Pokeballs with empty ones so that…that when…when they went to release their Pokemon during their show nothing came out!” Misty managed to choke out between gales of unstoppable laughter that pealed from her mouth.

I felt a small smile beginning to form on my lips.  This girl was so happy and carefree, playing jokes, and laughing, and most of all, having fun.  She was so easily delighted, even from the barest practical joke played on older sisters.  Misty, I found, would look around at the world, analyze her situation and make the best of it.  She was too young to decide to sink down into the bottomless depths of despair, but if she could I didn’t believe she would.

Misty stood up straight, her bright eyes sparkling with mirth, and grinned her big gap-toothed smile at me, “They got mad at me.  But it was so funny to see Violet storming around like that and Daisy and Lily looking for someone to blame!  They even forgot about the water show they were so mad!” Misty’s carefree grin spread wider and wider as she talked, dimples popping up all over her face, occasionally pausing to giggle happily into her small fingers as she did.

Suddenly Misty jumped up and cocked her red head to the side, listening.

“What…?” I started to ask, but Misty held up her hand to silence me.  I closed my mouth and began glancing haltingly around the area, attempting to see, or sense (as it seemed the girl had done), what Misty had felt or heard.  I could see nothing out of the ordinary, just the throng of colorful people running this way and that, cars honking along the road, city Pokemon darting and weaving their way in and out of the crowds.  It was all normal.

“My sisters!” Misty hissed suddenly, whipping her small, light body around and darting out past me to nimbly leap into the seething crowd.

“Misty!  Misty Waterflower you will get back here right this second!  You know I saw you there!” A female voice was shouting loudly and angrily.  I turned my eyes out in the opposite direction Misty had taken.  Three pretty, teenage girls emerged from the crowd, pushing people rather noisily out of the way as they went. 

The one who appeared to be the oldest, a striking blond of about seventeen years of age, had been the one who had shouted.  She led the other two girls; a 16 year old with purple hair and a 15 tear old with red hair, in the mad dash through the city.  So these were Misty’s sisters.  With a jolt, I realized that these were Cerulean City’s three beautiful Gym leaders, the Three Sensational Sisters.  And there was a Fourth Sensational sister, not yet old enough to own Pokemon, but when Misty came of age, Cerulean would have four Gym leaders and not just three—The Four Sensational Sisters.  Somehow I had this extraordinary feeling that Misty would be the best of them all.

I turned back around, away from the girls, just in time to catch one last glimpse of young Misty Waterflower’s brilliant red hair before she melted into the great crowd.  Her sisters rushed past me a few seconds later, shouting as they went.  I watched them go until they too had disappeared into the crowd.  Then I turned and began to walk again, not only wandering deeper into the heart of Cerulean City, but also into my thoughts.

This bright seven year old, Misty, had forced me to take a look back on my own life.  Why? I asked myself over and over, did she have this great affect on me?  It might have been because she reminded me of someone.  Someone I once knew.  Someone I had now almost forgotten.  Me.

Had I really once been so bright, full of joy, excitement and laughter, a life-loving creature?  The days Brad (who, at thirteen, was only two years younger than me) and I had laughed and jumped about, talking and playing without a care in the world!  We would play out in the rain, dancing and laughing, splashing each other with the cool damp mud that covered the earth.  I would whip my soaking ponytail about in Brad’s direction, showering him with even more water than was already falling from the sky.  When we got tired we would run home, racing each other on the way.  I, with my legs almost twice as long as Brad’s, would usually win, but Brad didn’t mind much as long as I let him win once or twice.  We would enter the bright roomy kitchen where our parents would be sitting, talking and laughing about something that had happened during the day.  Mom would smile at us, grab towels, and with my dad’s help, dry us thoroughly off.  Those were happy days!

But then everything changed.  Fights began to break out between my parents, every day growing worse and worse, erupting more frequently.  Brad and I would constantly be at each other with our own minor squabbles.  Both of us knew, deep down, that the reason for these petty quarrels was to block out our parents larger ones.  Finally, only a few days after my 13^th birthday, my mom and dad announced to Brad and me that they were getting a divorce.  This was the worst possible thing that could have happened.  I was sent into a whirling pit of despair.  Finally, when the day actually came for my Dad to move away I just couldn’t bare it.  The night after he left I ran away, taking only a small backpack of stuff with me and as much money as I owned.  I ran; ran from my “family” who was slowly falling apart, piece by painful piece, ran from the darkness that was threatening to engulf me if I stayed.

I lived out on the streets for days, half starved, freezing and cold at night.  But I would not give in.  I would not return home. Then, one small idea entered my head, one idea so small that it might not have even been real.  And then my thoughts began to dwell on that thought every single day, every single moment of spare time I could find I thought on it.  And it began growing and blossoming into something so huge I didn’t know how I could have possibly missed it.  I didn’t know how it could go wrong.  I would become a Pokemon Trainer.

Upon reaching New Bark Town, Johto, I rushed as fast as I could to Professor Elm’s lab and begged him to let me have a Pokemon of my own and my own Pokedex!  After all I was old enough!  He consented and when I left his lab I bore a tiny Cyndaquil proudly on my shoulder, a new set of Pokeballs hanging at my belt, and a Pokedex in my pocket.

So, proudly, I journeyed on my way to Cherrygrove City with my new Pokemon, which I had dubbed Flash. Together, Flash and I battled a few Pokemon, barely managing to capture a small Pidgey on the way.  The experience was exhilarating and it was one of the best times of my life!  When I finally reached Cherrygrove, both my new Pokemon were in need of a well-deserved rest.  I dropped my Pokeballs off at the large red and white domed Pokemon Center with the friendly Nurse Joy at the desk, and, feeling hungry, I left to get a bite to eat at the nearest food stand.

As I munched happily on my hamburger a sudden, deafening boom shook the ground.  Thoroughly startled, I dropped my half eaten hamburger.  Whirling around in the direction the sound had come from I was just in time to catch a fleeting glimpse of a great ring of fire being blasted sky high.  Smoke fumes filled the air, emanating from the direction of the great explosion.  Pieces of burning debris began to rain down from the sky as the air above was filled with an ominous red glow. This all came from the direction of the Pokemon Center.

I stared, stunned momentarily by the great sound and the fire that had filled the sky.  Then I broke out in a dead run, heading directly for the Pokemon Center, my heart filled with pure terror and dread.  As I reached the sight where the majestic building had once stood all I found was piles of flaming debris.  People were running this way and that, fleeing from the desolate ruins.  People and Pokemon alike came rushing out of the broken building screaming, some with severe burns, broken limbs, bloodied flesh and all manner of injuries.  Worst of all, dead bodies of both humans and Pokemon littered the disaster area, some with missing limbs, and all with bloodied bodies.

I stared in a horror and shock at the scene before me, not daring to believe that this horrible terror could have taken place.  But, worst of all, my own Pokemon had been inside that building during the explosion.  And there was no doubt in my numb mind that they had not survived.  I tried not to envision my poor Cyndaquil, Flash, and Pidgey as they lay helplessly locked in their Pokeballs.  Pokeballs were supposed to protect Pokemon, but to my beloved creatures it had acted as their final prison. 

So I fled the scene, and for the next two years I wondered aimlessly around Johto, eventually finding my desperate way into Kanto and Cerulean City where I was stationed now.  I had found a small job with little pay so I could sustain myself, barely.  And that’s where I was today.

I was miserable, thinking back to that happy time when my family had been one and together.  Maybe they were happy now…without me.  I shook my head.  No, they loved me and wouldn’t try and cut me off from their lives.  And who knew where my family was now.  What was Brad doing at this very moment?  My mom?  My dad?  Were they thinking of me too?  I hadn’t communicated with my family since…the day before my Pokemon dream was shattered.  I knew they had no idea where I was or if I was even living.  But maybe, maybe if I called them, went back to them, they would take me in and everything would be how it had been when I was little.  No, I reasoned, things could never be how they had once been.  There was nothing wrong with trying. 

And then I thought of Misty.  She was so happy and carefree, taking her life, the life of the younger sister of the Cerulean Gym leaders, which had to be hard with all the pressure on her to be as good and beautiful as her sisters were, and making the best out of it.  That was what I should be doing.

 Maybe I could go back to my family, tell them all my troubles and start fresh again.  Maybe my life could become good after all.  All I had to do was look at my circumstances and make the best of it.  That’s what I would do.

 I smiled, “Thank you Misty,” I whispered very quietly, raising my eyes and looking out over the crowd, becoming bolder than I ever had in two years.  “Thank you for helping me sort out my life.”  And it was true.  Through some strange phenomenon, this girl had forced me to think about my life and change my ways.  I smiled again as I gazed out through the tall buildings of Cerulean City to the beautiful rising sun.  As I did I was filled with a new sense of hope.  Hope for my life, and happiness that I was alive.  “Thank you.”