Pokémon: Forever Wounded

Always Wrong

(TW: this is written from Kieran's, a person who has serious depression and self-esteem issues' perspective. I also am not, and wasn't in, the best mental state when writing this. I decided to channel all these feelings into writing about how Kieran feels, and I felt this song works perfectly).

November 22nd 2025

Kieran was awake from his dream and at once reached for the razor. It wasn't there Of course. Force of habit. He screamed. Not out of the pain he was causing himself, but out of his hatred, his utter despisal of himself. He had hurt everyone. He deserved to be strung up from the nearest lamp-post, or shot. Or stabbed. He deserved every word of what Drayton had said to him. He'd never be good enough for Florian. 

I'm becomin' consistently worse every day,

Kieran turned over in bed, sighing, wishing he wasn't there, thinking about everything he'd done. Why was he like this. Why? Why? Paul and Faith could tell him it was just his autism his whole life, but he knew that wasn't an excuse. He was just the worst. He deserved to be shot, he thought to himself. There was nothing about him that was good. He had never achieved anything of note, value, or anything. He was a stain on this earth, and he kept saying things he didn't mean, like when he had lashed out at Max and kicked him out the League Club. He felt the stab wound. Deserved, deserved, deserved. He despised the person he had become. He felt his purple hair, and wanted to rip his face out and destroy himself. 

an' I am turnin' into someone I really hate. An' time jus' ticks on. 

He remembered the time he had thought about attempting. He had faltered at the last second. He was such a wimp. He should have gone through with it. He hated himself for not doing that. He couldn't even die when he was meant to, down in Area Zero, Florian just had to save him. Florian just had to see something in Kieran that, to Kieran wasn't there. He had no future. No aspirations. No happiness. No joy. That had all fallen away every time it seemed to come back.

I can't give up, so I am forced to keep on-

Kieran wanted to hurt himself but he was too weak. The bed he was in was too small, and he was too weak. He had always been too weak, too awful, too selfish. He had hurt Florian, and he had let what he thought about himself consume it. To Kieran, he was the devil incarnate. And he was too much of a wuss to end his own fucking life. That happy battle with Florian the day before felt like another lifetime, an exception, it didn't happen, it wasn't real. Kieran wasn't real. He was just a temporary thing that would fade away with time, and no-one would remember who he was come 20 years.

All I've wanted, is suddenly so grey an' dull, aspirations, 've turned into a muddy blob.

Kieran remembered a time where he wanted to be stronger. Where he wanted to be someone people could rely on. Where did that get him now? He was worthless, he couldn't do a single thing by himself. He screamed again. No one came to help him. Good. He took no pleasure from this internal berating of himself. All it did was appease the endless sinking feeling in his belly. It was all-consuming. Life just felt wrong, unnatural in that moment. He didn't want to die, he didn't want to make a fuss.

Nothing spikes me, and nothin' ever really stays.

He remembered how he had felt back in Kitakami. How could he ever have felt any different? Except there was no resolve. No desire to get stronger. It was too late for that. That had ruined everything. Everything. Florian was just being nice by thinking he could be redeemed. He would leave sooner or later, just like how he lied to him on Kitakami, and Kieran would do something terrible.

Only person I trusted to, suddenly went away

Kieran buried his face in the sheets, and allowed the salty ocean to trickle from his soul to the earth through his eyes.