"Let him go... he must live a normal life..."
A faint trace of words preluded over the silence of the night, holding a weight of anger, a wave of angst, a percentage of despair, and sacrifice for hope. The green haired female stood abyss in between the frame of the door, seeing the being she had just given birth to slip away from her embrace. As the moon sank it's expanding light over the forest once known to home a pacific community, all that could bee seen was the ending of a future billowed under its trees. For a boy to be born into a world of pain, separated from family, and thrown into a slough full of lies— how worse could his future be?
"It is another day, and I looked at my figure on the reflection of the pond. I have grown a bit, but I still do not look the same as the others... do I belong here?" Such thought roamed the mind of the boy, submerging him to the denial and doubt of who he was. It made sense nonetheless, he was different than the other creatures after all, but at the same time, there was something, though very little, that made him the same as the others— the eager to live; a goal perhaps. Pacing around the forest, he observed the group of Darmanitian Pokemon, their eyebrow flames outlining a vivid flow of fire across the air, as they ran around the field in a loop. He felt the atmosphere warm up with every pace they took, submerging its heat against the soft whispering breeze that whispered following their direction. He didn't mind that it was getting hit; They seemed to be having so much fun, laughing at a higher state, chattering without any concern, and enjoying what the pristine side of the forest could offer them. The boy sat on the grass, his knees covered by his dainty hands, holding himself in a composed state of mind.
A smile curved across his lips, lifting up his spirit as he enjoyed to see the Pokemon happy. Such free state of exuberance made him realize that even if they were different, they were all the same when it came to feelings. At an early age, he understood feelings pretty well. The act to feel a certain emotion, the act to be felt under a certain emotion, he understood them both pretty well. But what he understood the most, was the absence of the two—what do you do when you want to feel something but cannot figure out how to feel it? He felt like that, and he felt a mention that could not e explained. Many times he had tried to ask his friends what this emotion could be, but no one knew. No one had ever been left alone in the world to explain how solitude felt, or what it really was. His viridescent emerald eyes observed at the reds of the figures he wanted to blend in. Perhaps if he had red hair he would be able to connect with them more, but he knew that such thought was as ridicule as wishing for the moon to come up during the morning— little did he know that in a another part of the world the moon did shine at the same time, and it was shining brighter than sun. // cornyjade
On any other day he would have joined the darmanitian and play with them; but he was hesitant today. Just yesterday he had suffered a severe burn on his arm, from the flames of one of the typhlosion. It was an accident, but it made him aware that he was not one to be playing with fire. Pokemon alike rested fire, but he was no pokemon, he was just a boy— and he was starting to realize that.
A rustling of leaves created distraction from the playful scene, taking his eyes towards the back of the trees that stood behind the pond, adjacent to them. It was not easy to spot what it was, from where he stood, but he was curious and want dot know what it was. Step after step arose curiosity, speeding up his heart beat, drying his breathing to surrendering to interested as his dilated pupils saw something, someone, he had never seen before. Two girls, very young and pretty, stood among the fallen leaves, smiling at one another as they jumped in place, hopping with a rhythm only saved for the two. The boy lurked with curiosity, as if they were a treasure that he had just discovered— it made sense for him to be curious about the two girls for it was the first time he had seen humans— the first time he had seen someone like him. Ambitions combusted through his body, a sense of salvation obtained from a simple glance at the two girls. He felt happy, but at the same time he felt sad knowing that all along he was excluded from "creatures" similar to him. He wanted to see more, he wanted to know more, he wanted to fit in. He took short steps towards across the hill, making as little sounds as possible, but as he stepped on tree branch, the girls turned around at him, glaring at him with a shade of surprise.
Fixing the boy's small figure in their glare, they admired him in silence, just staring at him— "what are you?" whispered along the wind, as if he was someone different, someone who did not belong with them either. "I am... something, someone" replied the boy with his tone of voice questionable for an answer, craving for a truth to change his life around and give him a salvation of the befuddled mind he embodied. But no answer was given by the girls, they only glared, judging him for the way he wore torn tulip made of leaves, mismatched shoes of different colors, garments made of canes. their glare intensified on his figure with every second, their pupils dilated with every emotion that could sum up to one emotion: enlightenment. He felt aware of the situation as their glares burned into him a sensation he never felt before— he felt like shit. With his eyes down casting the floor as he started to take steps away from them, a Chimchar came towards him, grabbed him by the hand and spoke to him— "Chim—chaaarrr!" The eyes of the monkey like creature held an inviting glance, "come play with me," it had said. The child nodded, curving a smile in hopes to uplift the spiraled spirit he was given by the girls. "Okay. But we must go back to glades, otherwise mamma would be upset," he added, his hand griping over the monkey creature softly, and leading him away from the two girls, away from the embarrassment he felt.
Soft steps created a matching pattern between the Pokemon and the boy. He was walking back to the life style he was accustomed to; to the life style that brought a chaotic confusion of conglomerate commotion. However, he heard an sternly voice— a thick and penetrating voice; "he is the boy." Such phrase, though very gentle, felt a like venom that pierced through everything he knew, contaminating him with curiosity once more. Someone knew who he was. His green orbs immediately turn his attention towards the place where the voice came from, encountering a male, taller, older than him, with green hair. A mirk played victoriously on the male's lips, as he observed the kid with so much desire as if to take him away at the moment. But the boy kept walking, his eyes not leaving the figure, not leaving that smirk.... Who was he? He wondered, but he did not know. He never knew anything. All he knew, at that moment, was that the other person knew him, and knowing that gave him a small window of opportunity to find out who he really was. When the back of a person is placed against wall, what do you do? You fight back, you push forward even if it means pushing into unknown grounds. The boy was ready to do so, but little did he know that his white past would soon be filled with capital lies— for his future would be black.
Photo Credit: http://img13.deviantart.net/0f9d/i/2013/089/1/c/natural_harmonia_gropius_by_kenronpaki-d5ztw4i.jpg
YOU ARE READING
Harmonia, The King.
FanfictionWhen I was in pre-teennage years, I remember playing Pokémon on a daily basis--- to be the very best was my goal! Until I had to do homework... Anyways, I grew attached to certain characters throughout the years. Lance, Red, and others. My most fav...
