Sleep Tight

by Spruceton Spook

Chapter 2

"Don’t You Wanna Be With Us, Misty?"

Why does Ash do this to me all the time? Yeah, I torment him just as much, but I never do something like this to him. He’s right, though. I am easy to scare. Maybe so easy that it just invites people to torment me like that. I shouldn’t blame Ash for what he does. If I were in his shoes, I’d probably find this funny, too. I like it when he shows his sense of humor, which is pretty poor at times but always makes me laugh. This, however, does not make me laugh. I guess I’m just lame -- I love his humor, but I hate it when it’s directed towards me.

I lay down beside Togepi, who was asleep, but I didn’t get into my sleeping bag yet. I wasn’t ready to sleep. It was very early after all, probably only nine o’clock. I just wanted to relax, to get off my achy feet. I was feeling a lot better now. I was still annoyed at Ash, but that was subsiding like it normally does. I can’t stay mad at him, I just can’t. Chances are he’ll probably even doing something somewhat cute later to make up for it. I’m so pathetic, he’ll probably just smile and I’ll forgive him in an instant.

Ash and Brock were mysteriously quiet out there. I wondered what they were doing so silently? I heard them talking soon after Brock had yanked Ash out of the tent, but I didn’t even notice their voices dying out. It was also getting very dark. They were probably just sitting out there, enjoying the night air or looking up at the stars. They did that sometimes . . . and usually, I was there with them. Normally, I would have thought nothing of this. But not tonight.

It was getting late, and I wished they were in the tent with me. Talking with them would certainly help me in relaxing as much as I possibly could, and I was eager to see what Brock could whip together as a quick meal. I was starving, and tired, too. I would be incredibly surprised if I slept tonight, but I wouldn’t regret it, either. I didn’t feel like being a zombie tomorrow -- and geez, it’s not helping the situation much for me to be using these words!

After a few minutes, I lifted my head from where I was resting it beside Togepi. Brock and Ash were still saying nothing, but now I wasn’t even hearing them move. It was still out there -- too still. A chill ran through me again, and I shook my head mentally at the absurdity of it. It didn’t matter, though, I knew what I wanted. I wanted Ash and Brock in the tent now.

"Guys?" I called out softly, my voice flowing sweetly.

There was no response. My stomach clenched.

"Guys? Come on in, now. Come in the tent."

Why weren’t they answering me? Why weren’t they answering me!? My heart sped up again and I sat up. Balling my fists fearfully, I felt my lip quiver and my body tighten. This was not good . . . I didn’t need more of this . . .

"Guys, cut it out!" I whimpered forcefully, my teeth grinding. "Please, stop this! I know you’re out there! Don’t do this to me, guys! Ash? Brock? C’mon, stop!"

They still weren’t answering. I heard absolutely nothing out there except crickets. Continuous singing of crickets . . . and nothing else.

"GUYS!" I was begging now, pounding my fists into the grass. "Please, this isn’t funny! You’re scaring me!"

I was hesitant to go outside. I really didn’t want to. My thoughts were a mess, and I didn’t know what to do. I knew this was a trick -- a dirty, nasty one -- but I still didn’t feel like going out there and having them jump on me and give a heart-attack. I didn’t want to be scared like that. I just wanted them to start laughing right now and come in. I would still kill them, but at least it wouldn’t cause me as much grief and terror. Besides, I didn’t feel like going out there period . . . it was dark, and it was a cemetery, and I don’t like that combination one bit. Especially when your evil friends are out there planning against you . . .

"Please, answer me!" I yelled. I was crying now, and I even began to pray to God for them to cut it out. This was really mean . . . I knew I couldn’t trust them.

I couldn’t take it much longer. I grabbed the lantern and tore open the tent and into the night. As I figured, they weren’t there. I didn’t leave the tent; I merely stuck my head out nervously and extended my shaky arm out to light the area.

"Ash and Brock, I swear to God, don’t do this to me!" I was going to try threatening them now, but to them, it would just be a big joke. I swept the lantern around to try to spot anything, but it was so dark and the lantern light was so weak that it hardly made a difference. The light reflected weakly off some shiny graves, and that positively paralyzed me in fear.

Ash and Brock were nowhere to be found. I was all alone . . . in a cemetery . . . at night. I knew they weren’t gone, but I still didn’t know where they were. Even Pikachu was gone. They were doing an excellent job, I could hand it to them. But this had gone way too far now. Even though I knew they had to be somewhere nearby, I still couldn’t help feeling that there was some reality in this, that I was truly all by myself in a scenario only my nightmares would drag me into.

I felt stupid doing this, but I grabbed for a Pokéball. I didn’t know who it was, but I didn’t care. Even if it were Psyduck, at least I’d have some sort of companionship and maybe defense. I just needed someone with me, and that couldn’t be Togepi. I think I awoke him screaming at my idiotic boys, but I didn’t feel like him getting hurt tonight. I had one too many problems on my hands as it was.

I shivered as a sound echoed above my head. It didn’t take long for me to realize that it was just the breezes running though the leaves, but at this point I think I would have jumped if a pin dropped. Words can’t explain how frightened I was. I wanted to shut my eyes and have it be morning, have this whole night and this whole event vanish. I didn’t stop my tears from taking over me.

"Guys, please," I sobbed, stepping out of the tent and into the vast openness of the cemetery. I could barely see a thing, it was so dark. My legs trembled at each step I took into the soft ground. I swung the lantern around desperately, trying to find them, trying to see anything. If they had the other lantern, I’d be able to see that.

I froze. Tiny dots of lights shone out to me in all directions, flickering slightly in the deep dark. There were a lot of them, scattered in all directions, their warm, gloomy glow gleaming into my eyes. It took me a frightful moment to realize that they were only eternal lights, lit to burn continuously in honor of the beloved one they looked over. There had to be dozens of them, surrounding me. I choked back a gasp and held it in. I found myself staring at them, captivated by their gentle waver. For a moment, I felt myself calming, as if their flickers were mesmerizing me. They were . . . pretty almost . . .

"Come with us, Misty."

My heart stopped.

"It’s nice out here, Misty. Come join our world, you’ll like it."

I shook. It was Brock and Ash. I could distinguish their voices through the raspy statements they were whispering out to me, but it didn’t make me calm at all. I was becoming immensely afraid. Where were they?

"Guys!" I shouted immediately, flipping around in circles to find them. All I saw was darkness and more darkness, the lantern light occasionally illuminating the tent and nearby gravestones. "Stop it! Where are you!?"

Silence for a moment. And then: "Don’t you wanna be with us, Misty?"

"It’s so peaceful here."

"We even have a place for you to stay. A nice, warm mausoleum."

"All for you, Misty."

"Stop it!" I demanded in a high-pitched, frightened screech. "Guys, please! Where are you!? Stop doing this to me!"

By this point, I think I was ready to wet myself. I was so scared that my mind was a blur. But as scared as I was, I was becoming angry. I heard them, but I didn’t see them. I must have spun around twenty times, but stayed in the same place. I tried to follow their voices, and even through my terror, I figured out that Brock and Ash had to be in two different places, calling out to me. Where, though, was the question. I was even ready to run back into the tent, wait for them to finally stop acting like brats and come to their senses. And then I would murder them, slowly and painfully.

"And at night, we have big parties, where we dance in the moonlight and eat brains."

That was Ash. There was no doubt about that, and I immediately twirled in the direction of his voice, furiously thrusting the lantern out to try to find him. In that moment, I saw a twitch of movement. My eyes widened, but I wasn’t afraid anymore. I was infuriated, and became even more so as Ash popped out from behind a grave, his silhouette edged out by the light of the moon and my lantern. He let out a single, humorously frightened screech, and took off.

"Ash, I’m gonna kill you!" I raged, darting after him without delay. He just giggled heartily and boisterously, turning around often as he ran and throwing me sarcastic looks of terror. He was having a ball, and I was getting fed up.

He continued to laugh as I chased him, but it was his peril. This was not a laughing matter, at least not for me. I was careful of not crashing into graves as I pursued him hungrily, which was not easy. Trying to keep my eyes on him and where he went in the dark and preventing me from fumbling over some stupid grave at the same time was a challenge. But I was determined. I had had enough of this nasty nonsense for tonight, and I was going to make sure Ash understood that well.

I couldn’t believe how loud he was laughing! It made me clench my jaw shut so hard that it hurt, only opening to shoot out ear-ringing threats.

"Ash Ketchum, get back here!" I belted out, gasping for breath from the run. "I’m gonna pound your face so hard your mother’s not going to recognize you!"

Like that was going to get him to surrender, but he should expect it by now. He simply flipped around momentarily to stick his tongue out at me with a boyish smile, then sped up. Soon, my light didn’t reach far enough to keep him in range, and I lost sight of him.

"ASH!" I bellowed irately. "Where did you go!? Get back here so I can kill you!"

My chase had come to an end so suddenly, so abruptly, I didn’t have time to realize what was even occurring. In the course of mere seconds, I felt the side of my leg hit something, and I lost my footing right after. I managed a sharp yelp as I went airborne, instinctively throwing my hands out protectively in front of me. They struck something hard -- very hard. Before I had a chance to wail over the unforeseen pain that invaded my fingers, my head bashed against the same object, and I fell to the ground with a hard thud that wracked my whole body.

My world went black for a moment. I couldn’t see this happening, but I could feel it. My head began to spin and become heavy, pressure pushing at the sides of my skull forcefully. For a second, I felt as if I were going to faint. I remained motionless on the ground the way I had fallen, my throbbing head buried into the ground and my legs sprawled out behind me. A sharp ringing began to resound in my ears, causing my jaw to grind.

"Misty!"

"Oh my God, Misty!"

I could hear Brock and Ash running to me, but their calls were all muffled and echoing. It felt like forever before they reached me. Before they did, I was able to pull my legs underneath me and lift my ponderous head. My hand involuntarily flew to my forehead, where I had struck it against the grave. Opening my eyes weakly, I could see the headstone I had hit, lit up by the lantern which I had tossed a few feet aside. It was blurry and multiplying before me. Groaning, I sat up on my knees, my hand still pressed against my brow, right below my hairline. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt, but the pressure that I was feeling on it was making my stomach wrench in nausea.

"Misty, oh my God, Misty . . ."

All of sudden, I felt hands on me. They were warm and big, and it took no time to realize that they were Brock’s. He turned me around so that I was now sitting down the right way, and I looked up, squinting. Before me were Ash and Brock, and it took a few seconds before they came into full focus. When they did, I saw that their eyes were wide, their mouths dropped open in alarm.

"Misty!" Brock cried, grabbing my shoulders and staring into my eyes. He was giving me the most awful look of fear and I shivered.

"Oh no!" Ash’s hands flew to his mouth, and he began to shake his head violently. He crouched down to me, extending his hand out to brush my shoulder. His voice shook as he spoke. "No, no . . . Misty. Are you okay?"

"Misty, are you all right!?" Brock asked me furiously, grabbing my chin so that I would look directly in his face. He gripped me hard, holding me up.

I couldn’t speak. My head flopped about my shoulders, which I was trying desperately to support with my hand. I was getting very dizzy, and very scared. What was happening to me? I knew I was hurt, but only until Brock pulled my hand away, and he and Ash gasped, did I know how seriously.

"Oh my God!" Ash cried horribly, and I witnessed the whites of his eyes flare. He was cringing so ghastly that my heart leapt in my chest. It looked like he was ready to scream.

"Wha -- wha -- whaz the matter?" I stuttered, feeling a new fear rise in me.

"Calm down, Misty, calm down!" Brock shouted at me, stunning me as he flattened his palm against my forehead, right where I had. Only he was pressing so hard that it made my head pound even more than it was. He quickly turned to Ash.

"Go back to the tent!" he spat out to him. "Hurry, get some clean cloths and water! Now!"

Ash shakily nodded, breathing coarsely out of his mouth. Stumbling, he turned around and shot towards the direction of the tent.

"Brock?" I stammered, my voice high-pitched with fright and worry. "What happened? What’s the matter!?"

"Shhh, shhh," he hushed me, helping me to my feet. I wobbled, almost fell, but Brock held onto me tightly. "It’s okay, it’s okay. Shhh."

I didn’t want him to tell me to shush. I was afraid. I wanted him to tell me what had happened, how hurt I was. From his tone, I could tell it wasn’t good, and I panicked. My legs were barely propping me up, but Brock escorted me back to the tent with his strong arm around my shoulder. I could hear him breathing nervously, and he even mumbled some words under his breath, which I didn’t catch.

"B-brock?"

"You’re going to be okay," he tried to reassure me, but the way his voice was shaking, it was not doing the trick at all. "Don’t worry, Misty, you’ll be fine."

As we walked, his hand unexpectedly slid off my forehead, spreading with it a wetness. Wetness? What was wet? Surely it couldn’t be sweat --

It was blood. The realization hit me so hard that I nearly toppled over, bringing Brock along with me. He yelped, but grabbed me underneath my arms and hoisted me up. I was bleeding!? Brock’s hand didn’t hesitate in returning to the area, and he pressed hard into me again.

"Brock? Am I bleeding?" I cried out worriedly. "Am I?"

"Yes," he replied after a few hesitant seconds.

"Oh no . . ."

"No, but it’s okay. You’re gonna be fine. Don’t worry."

How could I not worry? I had just hit my head on a tombstone, which now felt like it was going to explode from the pressure, and now I was bleeding. To me, that didn’t sound good at all. Suddenly, everything became a blur -- my surroundings, my feelings, my thoughts. The short trip back to the tent felt like forever, and with the darkness and my condition I could barely recognize it. Brock was silently whispering to me the whole time, squeezing my side affectionately and his other hand jammed against my bleeding head.

When we got to the tent, Brock got on his knees and helped me in. As soon as I lowered from standing, I felt queasy and unsteady. It was better once I was on my knees, and I crawled in, Brock right beside me, his hand never leaving my head. I could feel the blood like crazy now; his hand was slipping all over the place. It was really yucky and sticky, and the nauseous feeling was growing. Of all things now, I didn’t want to throw up.

Ash was in the tent, his hands full of pieces of cloth. Some were really rotten looking, but Brock didn’t seem to care. He pushed Ash aside, and when he looked at me, his eyes widened. He was gawking at me in disbelief, in fear. Pikachu was right beside him, but I didn’t see what he was doing. I only caught glimpses of his ears. Where was Togepi . . . ?

"Here now, Misty, lie down," Brock told me. He was beginning to sound more collected, more gentle, but I could still tell he was utterly distressed. He helped me lie down, thrusting my sleeping bag and another under my head as a pillow. As soon as my head was down, the pressure sky-rocketed. It felt horrible, but at least I was off my feet and not nauseous anymore.

"Where’s Togepi?" I asked frantically, trying to get up. Brock pushed me down again, while Ash gently picked him up, showing me that she was okay. Poor little guy, he looked shocked when he saw me. I was relieved when Ash set him down so that he didn’t have to see my beaten-up self. Just as long as I knew he was fine, I was fine.

I looked up at Ash and Brock as they gazed down upon me, their distraught expressions disturbing me. It was even worse when Brock brushed the side of his sweaty face with the back of his hand, the same hand he had used to block my blood-flow. I could tell because his palm was smeared with bright red, shining in the dim light. My stomach lurched, and my eyes wandered all over his body. The sides of his green vest were stained red, as well, in some places, and I could see some smudges of it up and down his arms. Oh my God, how much was I bleeding?

I lifted my own hands, and nearly fainted when I saw them covered entirely in blood, also. Everywhere I looked there was blood, my own precious liquid all over the place. I panicked.

"Okay, okay," Brock said shakily, turning to Ash. "Give me one of those cloths! Are they clean?"

"I . . . I think so," Ash replied, handing Brock the top one.

Brock grabbed it fiercely and folded it, shaking the whole time. Ash watched intently as he placed it over my forehead, pressing down. He winced as he did, making sure it was secure.

"Brock . . ." I muttered.

"Shh, it’s okay," he told me again. "Just don’t move, Misty. Okay? Can you hold still for me?"

His tone was so sweet, so flowing, so full of concern. I tried to nod, but my head just throbbed. I grimaced, baring my teeth.

"No, no, don’t move!" he said, holding me down softly. He motioned to Ash. "Come here. Hold this down on her head! We have to stop the blood!"

"Okay," Ash replied, crawling over to me. His shadow fell over me as he reached over, exerting his force down on my forehead. The pain that was not there previously was now making its appearance; not only did my head throb, but it stung. I just wished I could see what I looked like, how bad I really was.

"How bad is it?" I asked, my eyes flying to Brock. He was wiping his hands on one of the cloths, turning it from a clean white to a light crimson. He looked down at me, taking deep breaths.

"You’re bleeding a lot," he informed me, swallowing. "I . . . I don’t know how bad it is, but for now, we just have to stop the bleeding. We have to stop it . . ."

Brock trailed off there, spinning around and grabbing for his pack. He began rummaging through it hastily. I turned from him and looked up at Ash. He gave me a weak, yet gentle, smile as our eyes met. I didn’t smile back immediately, but I did. I witnessed his eyes glisten over, about ready to cry. He shut them hard, glancing over at Brock.

"Brock, what are you doing?" Ash asked him inaudibly.

Brock didn’t reply, but returned a moment later. He held a flashlight in his hand, and very cautiously, he took hold of my face. Switching on the flashlight, he lifted my head up.

"Look into the light, okay, Misty?" he asked. I did, squinting as the beam glared into my eyes. I balled my fists as my head pulsed, feeling them stick together from the blood.

He looked relieved as he rose, but then shot his attention towards me again. "How are you feeling? Does it hurt a lot? Your head?"

"Yeah," I replied. "I can feel a -- a headache coming on . . . I guess."

"Well, your eyes are responding to the light," he told me, "but I don’t know if that means anything . . . good."

Good? Oh God . . .

"What do you mean?" I tried to lift myself up, but Brock restrained me. He looked hesitant before answering.

"You . . . you banged yourself up pretty good," he disclosed, exchanging a look with Ash. He wiped his forehead again, utterly a nervous-wreck. I didn’t like to see Brock this way. It was making me more scared, since Brock was usually calm and collected. He knew what to do, I trusted him on that, but seeing him worry like this was not reassuring.

"I just . . . I don’t know how bad it is, though," he admitted. He reached over and pulled the cloth away, twitching as he did. When he lifted it before my eyes, I could see that it had turned a deep brick red, a color sickening to my stomach. A chill shot through me. Brock quickly grabbed another clean cloth from the pile and folding it the same, placing it back on my wound.

"Hold it," he told Ash, and he did. "Misty, you have to tell me, do you feel tired?"

"A little," I said. "But I was tired before."

"Do you feel even more tired now? Like you’re just gonna conk out right now?"

I didn’t really know. My head still felt heavy, and each time I blinked it felt like my eyelids weighed a ton. I guess that meant yes, and that’s what I answered.

"Okay, listen to me, Misty," Brock said, hovering over me. I could feel his hot, nervous breath on my face. "Whatever you do, don’t close your eyes, and don’t rest, okay? I know that sounds bad, but seriously. I . . . I don’t know yet, but you might have a concussion, and I don’t need you losing consciousness or something."

Everything was starting to sound worse. I couldn’t take it. Something like this had never happened to me before, as I much as I didn’t want to, I couldn’t help but keeping in mind where we were, how we were shut out from the world with no aid nearby. But I had to stay calm . . . Brock . . . Brock seemed to be in charge now. And knowing him, he probably could do something.

"What are we gonna do, Brock?" Ash asked him, his fingers squeezing into the cloth on my forehead. I stared up at him as he spoke, watching the same face that had teased me and taunted me sag worriedly. He didn’t look any better than Brock. I blinked back tears.

"Okay," Brock replied, holding his face in his hands. He was thinking. But I didn’t want him to think. I wanted him to know what to do. Despite Ash and Brock’s appearances, nothing compared to what I was experiencing. Suddenly his head rose, and he took a deep breath with his eyes shut.

"We’re gonna have to get help," he told us morosely. "Ash . . . um, oh geez. Look, I’m gonna go out and see if I can find anyone, or do anything. You . . . I want you to stay with Misty. Someone has to be here. Okay?"

"Okay," Ash nodded.

Brock thought for a moment more. "Ash, give me Noctowl’s Pokéball."

Ash lifted his jacket and broke a Pokéball off his belt, handing it to Brock. "Do you need anyone else? What do you have in mind?"

"If we’re the only ones around here, we need to send word out. Can I bring Pikachu along?"

"Sure," Ash said, giving Pikachu a little scoot with his hand to join Brock. "Go help Brock, okay, Pikachu? Misty needs you."

"Pika," he replied gently.

"I’m gonna take the other lantern and the flashlight. Is the lantern okay in here? Is it hurting your eyes, Misty?"

"No, it’s fine," I answered back, barely above a whisper.

Brock nodded, lifting the sides of the tent. "I’ll be back as soon as possible, hopefully with help. I’m probably going to go around the whole graveyard if I need to, so just sit here and don’t go anywhere. Ash, stay with her, change the bandage when she needs it. And Misty --" He pointed to me and gave me a warm, coquettish grin. "Just stay awake, okay, girl? You’ll be fine."

"You be careful, too," I told him in farewell, smiling. The last thing I needed was for Brock to get hurt tonight. Then, I didn’t know what we would do.

"I will," he smiled. "Stay here." He left the tent with Pikachu, and Ash and I listened silently as he walked away, the grasses crunching under his feet. I hoped he found help soon. Oh God, I really did.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .