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Stories Write a story to catch Pokemon. A Grader will then decide if it catches or not.

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Old 07-25-2011, 03:15 AM
Psychedelic Shroomish's Avatar
Psychedelic Shroomish Offline
Join Date: May 2008
Location: Florida
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Default Hello, my name is Harriett

I am a little girl. I have no hairs anymore. I have chopped them off. Must break off all connections. That is my philosophy now. My face is empty now. My future is empty too. I made it that way. World made me this way. Only friend is my gas. Shouldn't call him that anymore. Being gas makes him cry. Can't accept who he is. He's a friend to me. Some people think differently, though. They see friends as tools. Kind of like a knife. Friends are different from knives. One you use for dinner. One you have for dinner.

Friend of which I speak. Most people call him "Weezing". Maybe they mean his sounds. I simply call him friend. You might think not specific. It is, there's only one. I have a picture, here. It is of my friend. It still makes me smile. Three orbs of mauve formed. Connected by tubes, like cigarettes. They make up his body. He is weak, like smoke. Choking, coughing, and binding together. They are all one body. Two faces, but they're same.

Today, me and friend go. We go out to city. Dark and terrible place there. People steal from each other. My parents were killed there. I wonder if I'm next. I will never know yet. Must keep living like normal. It is the only way. I walk out for food. Only reason to leave home. What else is in life. I tried going without food. It didn't work so well. Friend was afraid of bones. He saw them on me. He would choke in fear. I wondered why he did. Then I saw my face. It was hollow, like glass.

As I travel, I sing. The voices make me safer. The echoes ward off enemies. Everyone is an enemy. Only way to survive here. Approaching the city is nothing. All you see is broken shops. Desolate lands of red sand. All water has dried up. People rest here during day. Only way to survive heat. Then at night it's cooler. They come out like predators. Hunting the ones that sleep. I step slowly and painfully. Feet burning as I walk. Sweat beats down battered faces. It drips into my eye. I look at my friend. He blinks at me sheepishly. Then coughs up much blood. He must have tried singing. Camouflages well with the sand. I look at it move. It curdles and congeals slowly. Dancing around in the sun. So beautiful, just like mom.

The sun is highest now. I am using for guide. We both will go west. I try to move faster. The sand burns feet less. The town has passed us. In every direction rolling sand.

Last edited by Psychedelic Shroomish; 07-25-2011 at 02:53 PM.
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