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The Adventures of a Pokémon Trainer: Escape

    The biggest influences in my life are my mother and father. Their conflicting personalities created huge hmm… discussions about many topics, the foremost being Pokémon training. My father is a defensive person, never attacking anyone unless he’s sure he can get away with it. My mother is quick to judge, and to temper, believing that if you always are on offense, then the other person doesn’t have time to do the same. These traits are also apparent in their Pokémon training. About the only thing they have in common is they are both graduates of Pokémon Tech.

     It’s a family tradition, really. That and winning. We don’t have many traditions. Maybe that’s why I can’t just obey one. I had been arguing about it for months with my mother.

    “Your sister didn’t want to go and look what happened to her!” was her favorite line. I was always being reminded about my sister and her success. She didn’t want to go to Pokémon Tech either (though I don’t believe she had as much vehemence in her arguments) and when she graduated top of her class, she went on to place 7th in the Pokémon League. A family record. So of course my mother didn’t pay attention to my pleas of anguish, just writing them off as jitters.

     So I concocted a plan, a masterful plan, to escape Pokémon Technical School.

    “Well son, tomorrow’s the big day!”

    “Oh yeah, dad,” I said quietly as he entered my room and sat at the foot of my bed.

    He held out a small box to me. “For you,” he stated.

    I curiously shook it. “Oh! Don’t do that!”

    More curious then ever, I slid the lid off. “Dad!” I shouted.

    Inside were a Pokedex and a belt of pokéballs.

    “Open the first ball,” he ordered.

    "Squirtle! Squirtle!" shouted my brand new turtle Pokémon.

    “But dad, don’t they issue me all this when I get to school?”

    “Yes, but I raised the Squirtle special for you, and I programmed the Pokédex.”

    “Oh,” I said, a bit quieter. I had hoped that this was dad’s way of telling me to go out on my own, but dad wasn’t that subtle. I would have to continue my plans without his consent.


    I read my clock: 3am.

    Now or never.

    I stood up slowly. I took out the bag I had put together last night with food, money, a map and a cell phone/radio, called a Pokégear. All my clothes would be the same, my blue jacket, orange T-shirt and cargo pants. I didn’t were a hat like most trainers, I liked to show of my spiky bleached hair. And of course I wore my belt.

    I left the note I had written on the breakfast table where my parents would find it. It was sappy, telling them I had to make my own way through the world, and that I could take care of myself. I realized how lucky I was that dad had given me my Pokedéx. That way I could stay and eat at the Pokémon Centers.

    Quietly I snuck down the hall to the window at the end. I slid it open very slowly so it wouldn’t make any noise. I jumped. Wham! I hit the tree branch harder than I meant to. But years of practice helped me slide down the trunk. I made it! There was the front gate. But I froze.

    I had forgotten to think about the family Dodrio. I worked up enough courage to take a step, but although the Dodrio didn’t stir, one of its baby Doduos did. It would wake its mother!

    Without even realizing it, the pokéball flew from my hand. Squirtle jumped out and set its sights on the Doduo.

    “Squirtle, Watergun!” The powerful spray was too much for the hatchling. Down it went.

    “Pokéball, go!” and I had made my first capture.

    I ran out the front gate and didn’t look back. 

To be continued.