Wimp Out

Wimpod and Guzma

"Bravery is the capacity to perform properly even when scared half to death"

-Omar N. Bradley

Life wasn't going easy on Guzma. It was already hard, but sneaking food for Wimpod? Yeah, that was difficult. 

However Wimpod was happy, no matter what it got to eat. Spoiled banana he found from trash? Yeah, it happily ate it. A piece of bread? Yep. Pure trash? Of course. Guzma was disgusted at first, noticing how it ate all his garbage. It couldn't be good for it, even if they did eat all kinds of stuff straight from the sea. And now Guzma also knew why exactly wimpods smell like trash.

Happy, little Wimpod was fun to watch, though. It gave him funny looks when it tried to eat a carrot for first time, chirped happily when boy scratched its head, and... wimped under bed whenever morning came. During daytime it was scared of all noises it heard. Shouting, glass breaking and even silence. It knew something wasn't right. Guzma was clueless about everything it thought but he sure as hell would've agreed - life was scary.

What was enough to tick his father off this time? A hard slap on Guzma's face turned his focus on angered face. Old man reeked of beer.

"Guzma, what is wrong with you?" he muttered. "You could've done better, boy."

Oh... So it was about that? Guzma grinced and waited for another hit. Instead he was thrown back to floor. "Don't give me that look." So Guzma didn't. He exposed his backside for father. When he got hit again, a small no escaped his mouth. He was being called weak, again and again. Mother probably was outside picking flowers or some shit... She thought he deserved all this, didn't she? Guzma was so sure about it, she'd never stopped what father did. Not even once.

He was angry, scared and weak. No, he was a mere dissapointment. Never got first place, always third or second. He wasn't good enough for his father, so didn't he have a reason to be mad?

Boy started to cry, again.

He hadn't protested when Wimpod curled onto his chest and stared down at teenager boy. Was it pitying him? Like Guzma did to it the day they met? A small creature, beaten up by another pokemon... At least Wimpod's eye seemed to be better, whatever the reason was. It still had scratches though.

"I... Wimpod, I don't want..." he hugged the bug thighly and shut eyes. He wanted to get away so badly, but how? And what he would do after it, be homeless? His back ached and he turned onto his right side, quietly sobbing.

Wimpod seemed to be scared as well, but what could a weakling like it do either? They were known to be pure cowards. In a way, they resembled Guzma with their pathetic looks and skills. Wimpods ate pure garbage, don't smell good as Guzma had noticed and never win battles by themselves. Others tease and bully them. But still, here it was with him: trying to cuddle Guzma back with its tiny feet and chirping quietly. Boy wiped tears off with his sleeve and sighed heavily.

"I'll get us out", he mumbled and petted a creature. It only shut its eyes and let out peaceful chirp of understanding. It trusted him, him.

Maybe they really could get out.

It might've been too much to ask. Guzma didn't have the courage even to touch his old backpack until the very late night - and even then he threw it on chair. It fell next to it.

He scrabbled his hair and scalp until it hurted. And again, he was weak. He couldn't do anything right. He'd rather die than live this low. But he also didn't want to leave Wimpod - he wouldn't admit it aloud, but he started to feel attached to it. Only weeks together were enough for that, huh? So he couldn't leave this world yet. But he couldn't leave house either. He inhaled sharply.

"Guzma", teen groaned. His voice rose, "What is wrong with you?"

He hadn't noticed Wimpod which tried to climb on his leg, chirping hastily as if it was panicking. It had to bite boy's leg for him to finally pay attention.

"I..."

Wimpod started to snuggle closer to him. It shut its eyes and  wouldn't let go. So Guzma sat down.

"C'mere, buddy."

It let out a sad chirp.

"I'll... Think of something...."