Whispers in the Dark「Pokemon Fanfiction」

Fᴏᴜʀ • Cᴏɴᴄᴇᴘᴛᴜᴀʟ Fᴇᴇʟɪɴɢs

Chapter Four: Conceptual Feelings

The concept of loneliness was an abstract idea.

She felt as if the air was tight and choking, causing her to suffocate in the thick fog of humidity.

People and trainers walked past, trapped in their own heads just as she was in hers. She could have been on another planet altogether or just plain invisible, but she was neither.

To everyone else, she was just another person in this world, and that was the norm. Yet, she felt an odd tugging at her chest; something clawing its way into her throat and pinching it so tightly that air struggled to enter her throat.

Celeana pressed her eyes together for a good few seconds, trying to accept the fact that she was alone and she couldn't do anything about it.

The battle she had with Ryou was terrible, but she couldn't deny that it had caused her to forget about her loneliness for a short while. After Miss Enya left, she was alone—that single word alone terrified her—and left to depend on herself.

The problem was that she didn't know how.

All her life, she'd never known of being independent.

She'd always been looked after by the meticulous ways of the hospital staff—her food was always prepared for her, her timetable had been planned out beforehand, and she' relied on them for everything.

Adrenaline had prevented her worries from taking over her for the first part of her journey, and Ryou had provided a less-than-welcome distraction.

But now, the euphoria she had was dying down, fading to the back of her mind as nothing but a slight, thrilling pulse. The silver-haired boy was gone and she had to accept the fact that she was completely alone and she couldn't change it.

She knew that she had Froakie, but that wasn't the same as having Miss Enya by her side.

Right... Miss Enya said I could call her if I needed.

She pulled out her phone, dialling the psychiatrist's number and putting the slim device to her ear. There was a few seconds of buzzing and crackling intermission, but soon, a faraway voice—muffled by the tinny texture and bursts of static—rang in her ear, causing a wide grin to form on Celeana's face.

"Celeana?" The voice sounded tired and jet-lagged, but concerned nonetheless. "Is there anything wrong? Is your journey OK?"

She regretted calling the older woman—it was obvious that she was fatigued and deserved her due rest, but she couldn't turn back now.

"Sorry for d—disturbing you," the teenager apologised. "It's just that, well... I feel a little—" She searched her mind for the correct word, cursing at her limited vocabulary. "Lonely...no, v—vulnerable."

There was a lengthy period of silence as the psychiatrist mulled over her words. There was another crackle as she spoke once again.

"Well, all I can do is reassure you that everything's going to be fine." Miss Enya's voice was as calming as she had imagined it to be, and it was good to hear a familiar tone in her life. "It might be hard for you now, but you'll get used to it."

The woman paused for a moment, and Celeana could just imagine the way she looked when she was searching for something to say.

"Anyway, you're bound to make friends along the way," she consoled hastily. "Just don't panic—everything's bound to be OK."

The teenage sucked in a deep breath, running a hand through her already frazzled hair. "OK. Thanks for the advice, Miss Enya."

"It's no problem", the plinky voice replied, and faded into dull silence as she hung up.