**Warning - Bad Language**
As I slowly drifted out of consciousness, I felt as if my head was swimming. I had been dreaming before waking up; I was on a boat, drifting out into the sea. The wooden object beneath be bobbing up and down with the day's gentle breeze. However, upon nearing my awake, the sea turned more violent, beginning to throw wave after wave of ocean at me. The skies turned black as the lightning crackled and the thunder roared, yet I was not afraid. No, instead, I felt angry... as if my rage was fuelling this storm. I remember standing up in the boat, screaming to the skies at the top of my lungs... Then the clouds parted and the sun shone through, my anger quelled. It was at that moment that I realised – what I thought had been the sun was only the light above me in the room I found myself waking up in.
I felt groggy and exhausted as I sat up, confusion dwelling in my mind. Where was I? What had happened? These were only few of the large amount of questions dwelling in my thoughts. Water
, I had thought to myself, noticing that my throat felt dry and sore, my body feeling parched after waking up on the concrete floor. Concrete
... I wondered to myself, trying to figure out where I was. My house wasn't filled with a concrete flooring, so what was?
My eyes scanned across the four walls that surrounded me; I was in a grey room made of nothing but concrete – no doors, no windows. There were just the walls, the ceiling and the floor beneath. That, and an empty wooden table with a single chair by it. I turned to look behind me, wondering if there was any way to escape from this prison-like room, but there was nothing, nothing at all. I frowned, by head pounding as I struggled to work out why I was here.
Turning around, I noticed something that was out of place within the room. When I had last checked, there was nothing situated on top of the table. However, now stood a small glass of water, myself licking my lips as I began to realise how parched I was. I took a few steps forward and, as I got closer to the table, I realised how large it was than it had seemed earlier. That, and the fact that it seemed to take longer than usual to approach it, my steps feeling shorter than I would normally take. Upon reaching the leg of the table, I looked up at the size of it. That's when it hit me; the argument I had had with Mother, the lies I had been fooled with for most of my life. I had been used, and now these people had the audacity to lock me up in a confined room.
I fell onto my backside, holding my head up as I allowed my thoughts to swim freely. I wasn't as angry as I was before I had been knocked out – instead I was rather upset. Tears fell down my face as I tried to get my head around it all. I had led a life that wasn't real. I knew I had made friends, but I couldn't remember their names, their faces... maybe I never made them, they too being an illusion. It hurt me deeply that people would do that to me, that my own mother had conjured up the reality that I lived within. It made sense though, everything was way too perfect; the mornings, the weather, the timing of the food when I was to eat. Thinking back on my mother's explanation, I began to piece together how it must have been done. Using her psychic abilities, my mother, a Gardevoir which was blue instead of the common emerald green, had entered my mind, under orders from another party, and had created the reality I had always known of, like wool pulled over my eyes. But why? There must have been a reason – right?
Noticing the strange shape of my head, I pulled my hands away from my face. I had no fingers, just stubby... arms. Feeling my head, I came to the conclusion that seemed an obvious one: I was a Ralts and my mother a Gardevoir, I was able to sense the emotions of others – coincidence? No, I knew now that I was definitely not a human; besides, they weren't real. A creation by my ***** of a mother...
I decided that I had to stop my tears, crying would get me no where. Inhaling deeply, I decided that I would try to have a drink from the glass of water, situated in the centre of the table. Standing up, I stumbled. Looking down, I noticed that my legs were hidden by a cloth-like veil that went around my waist. Not only was I not human, but now I looked like a girl... Raising my arms to my face, I attempted to stay calm. Thinking about the fact I looked like I was wearing a dress would send me off into a rage. This whole situation, everything, made me feel insane – as if the slightest new detail in this new world could make the inside of my head explode. I could feel tears brimming around my eyes, but I slapped myself in the face to keep calm. No tears, no anger; I wouldn't let these bastards beat me.
Approaching the table, I began to think to myself on how I was supposed to get the glass from the table. I had no idea how to reach the tabletop, as did I have no clue as to how I could use the powers I had used in my “home”. Pointing my stubby arm towards the glass, I stared into the liquid with intent. I could see the water vibrate, bubbles beginning to float to the surface of the tempting drink – then it exploded. Glass flew everywhere, as did a large quantity of water, and rebounded off of the walls onto the floor. I stared into space, the only drink in the room had been broken by the powers I shouldn't even have. If only I hadn't been lied to, if only the reality I had lived within wasn't fake, if only...
I roared in anger, tears streaming down my face, as I lashed my arms to one of the table legs, as if I was going to push it over. However, before my fingerless hands had reached the leg I was aiming for, the table flung itself into the wall beside me, splintered wood crashing to the ground, mixing with the shards of glass. Standing there, my breathing short and quick, I stared at the figure that stood before me. It was an Alakazam, staring at me with interest, its arms crossed. It assessed the damage I had done, making a tutting sound and shaking its head.
“And here I was, thinking that I'd be able to take a seat and we could speak like civilised Pokémon.” The voice was male, and deep. His moustache was familiar – where had I seen it? Of course
, I thought to myself, reaching an arm out to the chair to my left in realisation as I remembered the stranger before me – it too flying into the wall and smashing into pieces. The Alakazam, however, hadn't flinched at all to my attack on the chair, and he just stood there, tutting once again. He was antagonising me.
“I guess a seat is out of the question... Have you calmed down yet?” he asked, his voice taunting and irritating. It was getting into my head, tempting me to act rash and attack him. I knew why he wanted me to do so, it was obvious.
“You're the one who knocked me out,” I stated, knowing that if I were to attack him, he'd just get the pleasure of repeating what he had done earlier – hit me full blast with a Psybeam. In reply, he chuckled, clapping his hands together, as if he were mocking me. I grunted, as if to warn him that he was pushing it, and he responded by lowering his arms. What he wasn't taking into account was that I hadn't known he was there the last time; this time, however, I was able to see him, and I could snap him like a twig if I were pushed too far by this prick.
He snapped his fingers, the sound echoing throughout the room, a strange aura filling the small space we were both in. Movement to my left caught my attention, and as I turned, I was surprised at what I saw. The chair I had smashed to pieces was beginning to fix itself back together and, as quickly as I had broken it, it was fixed – not a scratch to be seen.
“I had to attack you,” he explained, indicating to the chair for me to sit down, “you were going to kill your mother.” I stared at him, drinking in what he had said. Looking down in submission, the feeling of guilt began to settle in my stomach. I couldn't believe that I had attempted to kill my own mother, although what she did to me was wrong, I had no right to try and kill her. We were blood-related, and I would never want to hurt her... I was just so
Guilt-ridden and feeling slightly depressed, I sat in the seat the Alakazam was indicating to. A smile was painted on his face, the feeling of triumph reaching out from him to myself, yet I didn't react to it. I was tired, my body only able to hold so much anger. Looking at him with weary eyes, my brain began to process the fact that the seat was smaller than it had been earlier – he had shrunken it just so I could sit. He wasn't entirely as bad as he made out he was.
During my thoughts, I hadn't taken into account that the Alakazam had disappeared and then reappeared, a glass of water in his right hand. Placing it in front of my face, I snapped back to reality, noticing the liquid being displayed in front of me. I nodded in thanks, taking the glass and gulping down the water eagerly. He spat in disgust at this, turning away in discomfort.
“Don't drink it too fast, you'll be sick,” he indicated, sighing afterwards – as if it was obvious to know. I pulled the glass away from my mouth, the contents of it now empty, and I looked at him with curiosity. I didn't understand his purpose here... Was he to watch me? He looked at me, as if he had read my mind or something. That, I concluded, was exactly what he did. “I'm here to make sure you don't hurt yourself... You're wanted.” If I had eyebrows, they would have been raised at this current moment. I didn't ask though, because it made sense. There was definitely a purpose to the false reality that I had lived within, and there was almost certainly another party involved that led the “experimentation” on me. My mother was the one performing the experiment while someone else instructed her on what she was to do. I sighed, today was the day I was to face the “mastermind” behind the torture I was experiencing mentally.
A few moments passed, the two of us listening to the silence within the small, confined, concrete room. I sat there, staring into the glass, wondering what I would say to the person who wished to speak to me, but I couldn't muster up the strength to get angry again. Just as I rummaged my thoughts, the Alakazam finally broke the silence.
“The Luminary will see you now,” he informed me, holding out his hand to me. I stared at his empty palm, wondering whether I should place my arm on it. Finally, I climbed off of the chair and approached him, placing my stubby hand in his own.
Suddenly, I found myself in a long, bright hallway. As the Alakazam released my paw and walked off along the carpeted path, I stood where I was, staring at the statues beside me. Golden figures of legendary Pokémon, the size of them a maximum of a meter, width and height. Just as I confirmed the species of one of the legendary statues, the Alakazam ushered me to follow him. Obeying him, I hurriedly walked towards him, towards the large wooden doors that suggested that “The Luminary” was inside. The Alakazam stood by the side of the doors as they slowly opened.
The species I had confirmed earlier was a Cresselia, the detail in the statue simply amazing. It was as if I were seeing the statue again, but this was the real thing. As the doors opened up into a large room, and I stepped inside, I saw the Pokémon in front of me floating above a cushioned podium. I payed no attention to my surroundings, only to the powerful, yet graceful, Pokémon before me, its swan-like body moving not an inch as the creature turned its head towards me.
“You may refer to me as The Luminary.” I shook my head, trying not to be amazed by this creature. Though its voice was distinctively female, I could feel the royal air emanating from her, reaching out to me and wrapping around my body. Looking at her, I decided the bluntest approach would be the best. That, and the fact that I was too exhausted to conjure up any other method to approach the only question I wanted answered.
“Why did you do this to me?” I asked, my question clearly taking The Luminary by surprise, the answer delayed as she looked around her room in thought. I needed this answer, because it made no sense to play with someone's life, to make them believe that the fake is actually real. The fact that I was messed with mentally no longer angered me, now I was confused and curious. However, I somehow knew I would soon change my mind, knowing I would be enraged about it now and then. It felt as if I had multiple personalities now, or was I just emotionally confused?
“Research tells us that, from birth, a Pokémon is continuously using their power found within their body, meaning that, upon adult-hood, their strength isn't as strong as it would be... if they never used it.” I looked at her, my mouth open in disgust. An experiment – just as I had thought; but for power? For me to become stronger? For their benefit? That would make me a liability, I could have killed people, I... “A dark force approaches our land, and doing this was the only way we could destroy it when it was to arrive,” she informed me, sounding as if I would do this voluntarily. I stood there, my mind racing, trying to piece all of this together. I couldn't believe that she had the cheek to assume this.
“Why should I bother helping those that have ruined my life?” I turned away from her, moving towards the door as I planned on walking out on “The Luminary”. “Fuck you and the arseholes that did this to me!” Pushing open one of the doors, I heard the menace in her voice as she said the words that would stop me from walking out of the room, on one of the most highly-respected legendary Pokémon known,
“The moment you step out of this room, I will have your mother slaughtered before your own eyes.” I froze on the spot, chills running down my spine. I never wanted my mother dead, even if I had
attacked her, and I wasn't going to have that happen now. Slowly, the door I had opened beforehand closed, my future forever lost within them.