Learning to Heal the Hurt - Book I: Fire Red
Chapter 4: Caught!

I ran, fleeing through the forest as fast as my bound leg would permit, never once halting to check my direction.  I didn’t care where I went, just as long as I got somewhere, away from here.  I gripped my dry stick in my freezing hands and clutched it to my chest, hoping it would take the worst of the blows from the low hanging branches.  The rain was coming down harder now, in sheets, transforming the once dry earth at my feet into slick oozing mud.  I slipped and slid my way across the forest, legs scraping across brambles and razor sharp grasses, cutting my flesh in a dozen places.

I catapulted past a bush of low shrubbery, then over a rut in the muddy earth.  My damp clothes clung uncomfortably to my even damper skin like Velcro.  My soaking shoes made a horrible squish squelching sound every time I placed them on the slick wet earth.  My dark hair, which had lost its single hair tie eons ago, had not been combed in days, causing it to stick out crazily in all directions.

I ran on, the only thing I could think about was how those filthy things could have killed my mother.  The fight I’d just had with Deri had totally escaped my mind.  That was how one-tracked my mind was at that point in time.

I ran and ran and ran and ran, until I could run no more.  Then, with burning lungs pleading desperately for oxygen, a horribly aching leg, and no will to continue on, I collapsed onto the soft wet earth, barely able to lay my whirling head down before the darkness claimed me.

*  *  *

I was a wreck; a total and complete wreck.  My dark hair was filled with dirt, burs and who knows what else!  It stuck out in every direction too, giving me a savage appearance.  My navy shirt and jeans were covered in a thick layer of slime and half frozen mud; a horrible reeking stink emanated from my dirt and blood encrusted body.  Torn in several different places from where they had caught on stray twigs during my wild fleeing, my clothing probably looked only half as bad as I did.  My exposed arms and legs ached terribly from the numerous cuts and scrapes also obtained during my enraged runs; many of them oozed blood onto my dirty flesh, staining it a dark, sickly red.  Mud was encrusted over some of my cuts, adding more pain to my already aching skin.

 t had only been a day since I had fled from Reenie and Deri and collapsed out in the woods; my rage had boiled down somewhat to the point that I could control it.  I pushed the anger and pain away, deep inside me, to let it grow for when I really needed it.  After I had come around I realized that I was cold, wet, hungry, tired, and, above all, thoroughly miserable.  It had ceased raining some hours before, but even that wasn’t enough to lift my steadily dropping spirits.  My stick, which had proved to be more of a hindrance than a help so far, was still as dry as it had ever been, always staying in my sight and my filthy, freezing hands.  I, personally, envied it; it did not have feelings.  It couldn’t feel rage, hurt, pain, sadness or any of those things that weighed down on me now.  And it was always dry, warm, and comfortable.  That was something I wanted.  It was kinda stupid to envy a stick.

I still had the Fire Red stone too, I just never bothered to take it out of my pocket and examine it.  I did now though, transferring the amazingly light object of my envy to my right hand, and plunging my left deep into my soaking wet pocket.  When my hand met cool stone I yelped.  The buzz of power that had run through my whole body, pulsing from the stone, was much more intense than the power the stick emanated.  I gained control of myself, and once more thrust my hand into the pocket.  This time I was prepared (or as prepared as you can get from the shock of pure power coursing through your veins) for the wave of power when it came.  I drew the stone out of my pocket, clenching my fingers firmly around the orb.  Comforting waves of great warmth ran through my body as the thrum of the stone synchronized with the pulsing rhythm of my heart, sending feeling back into my numbed limbs and warming me up completely.  It felt good to be warm again.

I opened my hand to reveal the stone, and positioned my head at a slight tilt to peer down at it.  It was the same stunning fire red in color, still appearing to burn with an inner flame, one that never went out.  It made my head spin to stare at it.  I smiled and glanced away.  It was the first time I had smiled in days and it kind of felt weird on my face, using muscles that had lain still for quite a while.

Turning, I pocketed the stone, full of a new hope and ambition to continue on.  Using my stick as a walking staff I began to trek on through the forest with no idea where I was going.  All I knew was that I was traveling for revenge.  I traveled for another two hours or so, ignoring the continual protests of my aching legs, my soiled clothing quickly drying in the rapidly heating day.  The days had been unusually cool for early June but this day seemed to turn the tables.  I estimated that it was about 85 degrees Fahrenheit out, quite a nice day.  The sky was clear and blue, as it usually was during a Hoennian summer, and the sun shone brilliantly on everything from high overhead.   The forest was full of bright blues, browns, greens, purples, yellows, oranges and just about every other color you could imagine.  A slight cooling breeze was whispering softly through the trees, ruffling my disheveled hair and clothing.

In the instant that I stood, staring at all this beauty, I had the most peculiar yet surprisingly joyful feeling that I was the only person on earth, and all my troubles, pains, everything, were being whisked away by the passing breeze.  Plus, I was happy, so happy that a joyful peal of laughter erupted from my long dormant lips.

A Pidgey chirped.

My tranquil moment was broken and I began to remember as I felt a spark of anger begin to ignite the flames that I had pushed so carefully away.  I ignored the stirring anger within me and sighed regretfully.  For one moment I had felt like I had only a few weeks before, so joyful and carefree.  The mere reminder of those happy days that seemed so long ago, and almost lost to me forever, made me feel as if I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I sighed again, and shook my head.  I continued glumly on.

The only thing that was actually marring the perfect beauty of the day was Pokemon.  The bloody devils called out from the trees, the fields, the bushes, the forest floor, all around me, almost seeming to deafen my senses as I tuned my ears in to their horrid cries.  They even dared go as far as to show their faces in my presence, but quickly hid them again as they found a large stone fly dangerously close by their heads.  Various bird Pokemon screeched far above me from the cover of the trees.  Other land Pokemon snarled and yowled from around and below me.  It was all too much, just too much.

I dropped my stick abruptly, clapped my hands over my greatly abused ears, and screamed.  I screamed long and loud, as loud as I could, my voice erupting into the racket created by the beasts.  I screamed for what seemed like ages to my reeling mind.   Closing my mouth, the harsh and sudden sound abruptly cut off.  I slowly pried my hands from my ears, and was greeted by total and almost complete silence, save for the slight breeze that rustled the trees.

It was then that I heard it; a faint roaring sound, alien to my ears so used to the natural sounds of the wild.  What was it?

Standing stock-still, just listening, I heard very faintly through the silence the strange rushing roar, until it was once again drowned out by the ugly sounds of Pokemon, who had apparently gotten over their initial shock of my scream.  Just as the sound faded away completely to my untrained ears, I realized what it was.  It was a sound I hadn’t heard in days.  It was the sound of cars, rushing along a paved road.  A road meant cars, and cars meant people, and people meant cities, and cities meant civilization!  It would be good to reach civilization, where I would be able to take a much-needed hot, soothing shower, and fill my stomach and mouth with all it could hold.  Then I realized that I had no money, none at all, not even one lone quarter that usually lurked somewhere in the hidden depths of my pants pockets.  I would have to find a job, earn some money so I could then buy the stuff I would need to live off of.  I knew, deep in my mind, that this was a very stupid and unrealistic plan, especially since I held a close resemblance to the devil himself with my disheveled clothing and hair.  I didn’t care though.  All I wanted was food, water, and a good night sleep.

I couldn’t deny it any longer.  I was starving, ready to eat anything, well, almost anything, that came my way.  I was thirsty too, my mouth so dry I thought that if I tried to speak, nothing would come out.  I quickly stooped down, grabbed my stick and began to hurry in the direction I had heard the sound of cars coming from, peering intently through the trees to see if I could spot any signs at all of an on coming road.  I traveled silently for another couple of minutes, listening intently as the sound of the cars began to crescendo.

Finally, I reached the edge of the forest, the trees cutting off abruptly to become a straight line of recently mowed lawn.  This eventually receded into a row of course, dry gravel, which lined both sides of the black pavement that served as a road.  Hidden by the thick forest shrubbery I stared out over the painfully straight pavement, my clear blue eyes scanning the area thoroughly, taking in the hard cement with its vibrant yellow stripe running firmly down its middle.  The road, probably some old rural country highway, stretched out as far as I could see to my right and left, following an amazingly straight and flat path with minute twists, turns, and hills.  Out past this man-made specialty was a large expanse of field, stretching on and on for miles straight ahead of me, never seeming to end; farmland. 

Houses and small buildings dotted the rolling hills with long, dry wild grasses that swayed gently in the soft breeze, ironically reminding me of my 7^th grade science teacher who automatically began swaying as he taught.  My classmates and I had always found this amusing, dubbing him, The Quaking Aspen.  But that was all gone from me now, back in happier days.  I would probably not start 8^th grade like I had been planning too at the end of the summer because of my quest.

I shook my head to clear my mind of unwanted thoughts, quickly burst forth from the cover of the forest and threw myself into a determined trot in the direction I hoped would lead me to civilization.  With the luck I’d had lately this road was probably just an illusion and would lead me absolutely nowhere.  I sighed.  Staying out in the wild for days on end did strange things to you.

My head twitched.  The harsh roar of a car engine could be heard, making its way steadily in my direction along the small highway.  The sound started out as a quiet rush, it could almost be mistaken for a slight breeze, but soon crescendoed into a rushing roar as it neared me.  I cast a quick glance over my shoulder.  A tiny streak of blue could be distinguished from the vibrant blue of the sky, just topping the horizon.  It was rapidly heading in my direction.  I turned my head back to its original stance and continued walking, using my stick to guide my aching legs along the road.

As the car topped the rise of the land behind me I realized something.  A scary thought.  I quickly launched myself at the large trees of the forest, barreling straight into a thorny patch of brambles, landing with a painful thump on my stick.  I cursed as the thorny points nicked my skin, sending forth bursts of pain down my arms and the other exposed parts of my flesh.  The stick had probably left a large bruise where my leg had crashed into it too.  I held still, though, mumbling something about stupid thorns that turned up where they weren’t supposed to be. 

Peering cautiously out through the bracken, still mumbling indistinguishable threats, I watched as the car zoomed by, completely oblivious to my hidden self.  As soon as it had safely passed I jumped up, muttering curses on the thorn bush, and walked back out into the exposed area of the road.  Thorns stuck horridly to my body making me feel remarkably like a giant pincushion.

What I had realized was that if anyone just driving their normal way along the highway saw a disheveled 13-year-old girl randomly walking along a rural highway, they would get inquisitive, stop and take me home.  That was not something I particularly wanted. 

I began to walk again; traveling in (I hoped) the same direction I had been going before that car showed up.  I winced and began to yank the sharp thorns out of my body.  It was painful, but I was glad when they were all out.  I continued walking along, every now and again glancing warily around me just incase any cars decided to show up.  Sure enough, maybe five minutes after the first car had passed I heard the faint roar of a car engine in the distance, steadily getting louder, but this time in front of me.

This time I looked before I leaped into the safe cover of the forest so I was not going to land on anything pokey or pointy.  I sat there grimly and watched as this time a silver mini-van passed my hiding spot and, like the other car, continued on.  I sighed with relief and stood up, quickly scanning the road before I stepped back out onto the grass.

I continued on in this fashion, beginning to feel thoroughly exhausted after about forty minutes of traipsing in and out of the forest, dodging cars.  I finally trudged into the cover of the woods, and lay myself down on the ground, the smell of fresh earth wafting up to my expectant nostrils.  It was about mid-day at this point; the brilliant yellow sun was shining down to filter through the thick canopy of trees that formed a cooling shade over my head.  Pokemon called in the forest around me, but I ignored them, focusing on the restful sounds of the wind whispering through the trees.  The rustling leaves sounded like peals of rich laughter ringing through the air.  The trees were laughing, probably at something the wind had whispered to them.  I smiled at this thought, and stared up at the light green and brown colors dotting the forest canopy.

Who knows how long I sat there, enjoying the beautiful summer day, letting the breeze gently caress my face and hair.  I finally pulled my self back up to my aching feet and trudged out of the forest, onto the road.  I had to continue on or else I might just stay there all day and never move again.  I trudged along the road, my senses dulled from the long rest period I had just taken.  I was tired too.  I stifled a large yawn that threatened to crack my head in two, with my hand, stopping shortly as I did so before continuing on again.

Then, I stopped dead in my tracks, a wave of fear washing over me.  I clenched my hands tighter around my stick, my knuckles whitening as I did.  I couldn’t move, couldn’t do anything; my muscles wouldn’t react to what my brain was plainly screaming at them.  Move!  Run for your life!  Go!  I couldn’t.  My muscles were locked firmly in place.  I wanted desperately to move, but I just couldn’t.

A silver car had come to a skidding halt right beside me.  Somehow it had crept up on me as I walked.  I hadn’t noticed its presence until it was a few feet from my face.  I had either been too exhausted to hear it, or my huge yawn had blocked out the sound of its approaching roar.  Either way I was doomed.

“Hey!  Kid!  Are you lost?” A loud voice inquired as my frozen brain vaguely registered a car door slamming shut.  The call somehow melted the ice that held my limbs firmly locked in place.  I bolted towards the forest, pulling my stick up away from the ground to prevent it from tripping me.

My numb mind barely perceived a shout of “stop!” as my legs carried me painstakingly slowly towards the forest.  If I could just reach it I would be fine!  If the forest covered me I could escape!  I had to reach the trees!

A large hand clamped down on my right shoulder, stilling me instantly.  Immediately, as if it were a reflex, I began to struggle, jerking my head around to glare savagely into my captor’s eyes.  He was young man in his early 20’s with sandy brown curls and light blue eyes, around the same color as mine.

“Whoa, kid, calm down!” He cried, tightening his iron grip on my shoulder; his white skinned face, tanned by long hours in the sun, set in grim determination.

“No!” I screamed at him, dropping my stick from my left hand so I could bring it up to try and pry his fingers loose from my shoulder. “Go away and leave me alone!”  His fingers stayed clamped around my shoulder, biting uncomfortably into my collarbone.

“I’m just trying to…” He began, but I cut him off. 

“Let me go!” I shrieked frantically.

My shriek carried over the sound of the breeze, startling that Pokemon filth once more into silence.  The man’s free hand came up to grip my flailing arm in his large callused one.  I began to struggle harder, kicking him with my feet, trying desperately to make him let go.  I had to make my escape and fast!

“All I want to know is what you’re doing out here alone!  Sandar-Rustboro Highway is no place for a young girl to be wandering by herself.” The man said, shaking me slightly.

At least he’d been a bit of help.  I now knew where I was, or, at least, had a vague idea.  I just hoped I was heading in the direction of Rustboro and not Sandar.  If I were, then I would just end up back where I started.  It would have been a whole waste of time and energy.

“Darren!” I heard another voice call from the other side of the car followed closely by a car door slamming.  Someone else was coming to help this man, Darren, kidnap me.  Yes, that’s what this was: a plight to kidnap me.

Darren had finally gotten a secure hold on my arm, ceasing my desperate struggling.  It was hopeless.  I had lost.  I stood there and glanced over at the other figure pacing towards us.  She was a pretty, not quite beautiful, young women, probably around the age of my captor, Darren, her raven black curls fell neatly down her slender back, accenting her almost too slim figure and startling silver eyes.  Silver eyes?  I had never seen silver eyes in my life before.  My eyes locked with the women’s captivating me and holding me in place.  All my perceptions of reality were gone lost in her strange, yet completely calming gaze.

My captivated mind barely perceived Darren towing me slowly towards the car.  I followed along as easily as if I were a child following its mother.  The car door was opened and I was pushed in, not roughly.  As soon as I was in, the door slammed and the women’s captivating gaze was broken.  When I realized that I had somehow ended up in the car with the door closed I began to scowl.

The car was a small vehicle, furnished with tan leather seats, and not the soft material that had covered the interior of my mother’s beige mini-van; it was a sign that they had money.  The windows were clear and spotless, as if someone had gone over them with soap and water millions of times.  I imagined the windows glittering with light like they did on the commercials.  The whole car seemed to be spotless, as if recently vacuumed out. 

I glanced over to my right and noticed for the first time that the car held one more occupant.  It was a boy who seemed to be about my age, maybe a little older.  His hair was the same raven black as the silver-eyed women’s except it was straight and cropped short around his ears.  His skin was a slightly darker color than mine, a great contrast to the silver-eyed lady’s milky white complexion.  I had a sudden sense of déjà vu as I looked at this boy.  Where had I seen him before?  The car shifted slightly and two doors slammed, one after the other as Darren and the lady got in.

“So,” Darren said, inserting the key into the ignition slot and turning it.  The car began to thrum and roar to life. “What’s your name?”

I figured he was speaking to me, but I didn’t want to answer. “Talia O’Connel of Sandar City, Hoenn.” I mumbled, my words barely audible.

“Pardon?” He asked, as the car pulled out onto the highway.

I stared down as my feet, which had suddenly become very interesting. “Talia O’Connel,” I repeated, this time more loudly and clearly.  I had decided not to tell them where I was from unless they asked.  They might want to take me home then.  I needed all the manipulation over these people that I could get.  Why was I just letting complete strangers take me away like this anyway?  I should just open the door and begin screaming for help, which I knew I wouldn’t get.

“Nice to meet you Talia,” Darren answered. “I’m Darren Crawburn.  Sorry for sneaking up on you like that, but you really shouldn’t be sneaking around the highway.

“We’re going to take you home,” The silver-eyed lady added, turning her pleasant face towards me, startling silver eyes intent on mine. “I’m Julia Smith by the way.”

I just nodded dumbly and glared at the floor.

“Hey, where do you live?” Darren asked, blue eyes intent on the road before him. “We were heading to Rustboro City, but we can make a detour and take you home, as long as it’ not too far out of our way.”

Rustboro City.  So that’s where they were heading.  A plan began forming in my mind.  I couldn’t tell them where I lived because I did not want to go back there.  But Rustboro City…  He had said that they were heading for Rustboro.  “I live in Rustboro,” I lied, crossing my fingers behind my back, hoping desperately that they would believe me.

“Hey!  What a coincidence!  Since we’re going there we’ll just drop you off!” Darren grinned, looking at me through the review mirror.  Great.

“Oh, the boy behind you is Drake, my cousin,” Julia added with a quick glance at the scowling boy next to me.

I froze. Drake.  No, it couldn’t be.  Not Drake Coller.  There was absolutely no way.  I turned to study the boy.  He had the same black hair, the same black eyes and the same tannish skin.  There was no mistaking it.  This was Drake Coller.  I knew this boy.

*  *  *

I distinctly remember that it was a chilly October day, and I was ten years old.  A harsh shrill wind whipped at my blue striped windbreaker, causing me to tuck the rippling piece of cloth more securely around my body.  Dry autumn leaves blew about the streets, occasionally flowing into small circular movements, creating a tiny whirlwind of debris.  The bare branched deciduous trees mingled with the evergreens and shriveled brown oaks that clung to their prune-like leaves long after the rest of the other color flaming trees had given them up to the impending threat of winter.  I also remember that it was a Saturday, and I was happy to have my freedom from the prison of school for the whole weekend.

Deri, who had come down with the flu only last Thursday, was still busy recovering, and his mother denied the access of any outsiders to their home, and Reenie had some important swim meet to attend that day so I was left alone to amuse myself.  It didn’t help that my mom was working, as she always did on Saturdays, to earn a little extra income, so I concluded that I was in for an utterly boring day alone.  There was nothing to do inside, as the confining boundaries of the house annoyed me and no homework had been assigned that weekend, so there I was stuck outside, in the chilling wind, to wander the streets of my neighborhood alone.

Delany Park, named after some long dead founder of Sandar City, was only about four blocks away from my home, so, with nothing better to do, I set out, a ten year old girl, through the overcast day down toward the park.  I loved that park.  It had been my favorite play place for as long as I could remember.  My mom loved it too, for the picturesque mix of fields, forests and lakes.  I adored it for the amazing playground that not only offered fun equipment to the younger children, but to the older children as well.  Delany Park was also full of winding trails through its vast premises on which I loved to wander about, exploring into all the little nooks and crannies of the park.

No one seemed to have the nerve to be out in the chilling wind that day, so I had a free run of the deserted streets all the way to the park.  Even fewer Pokemon were about than humans, but there were never many Pokemon about anyway in my part of the city, unless they were pets.  The park was deserted, except for a few park personnel hanging about, so no one bothered me as I began to trek toward the famous playground.  As soon as I reached the structure I could see that the park was not as deserted as I had first thought.

A raven hared boy who appeared to be around my age was sitting atop the highest structure in the park, peering eagerly about the almost deserted area.  I began to slow my strides slightly as I neared the structures and the boy.  I wanted to be sure I did not know him so I didn’t have to run away to avoid the inevitable questions that were bound to come.  He had raised himself slightly higher on the structure now, and was grinning at me as I approached.  He waved.  I had been spotted.  The boy seemed a little over friendly to me.  I didn’t know him.  This didn’t bode well with me, so I whirled around and began taking quick steps away from the playground.

“Hey, you!” I heard the boy’s friendly voice behind me,  “Why are you running away?”