View Full Version : .... no awesome title yet....

03-31-2008, 05:27 PM
this is mah story!!!! I will finish it laterzzzz!!!!!!

"Pay attention class!" Miss Jenkins, our third grade teacher called excitedly. "Gather around over here and look at what Samantha has done!"

I stood anxiously. Samantha? This could not be good. I made my way over to the small group of students that had already reached the easel near the back of the rectangular classroom. I leaned against the wall, trying to maintain an air of casual disinterest, as I peered over the heads of the other students at the elaborate painting on the taught canvas. It tied a knot in my stomach, standing there and looking at that painting. I had almost expected it, but I had still hoped that she would have some sense left in her.

It was an upper body profile of a boy. He had dirty blonde hair cut short; merely a few centimeters long, a small round face, lightly tanned skin, dark blue eyes, and was dressed in a slightly torn, pale blue tee. His face was somber, unsmiling, and his dark eyebrows were drawn low, making the boy seem concerned or even angry. It would have been pulled off perfectly too, if it weren't for the eyes. Those eyes seemed to be smiling, inviting somebody to play, or trying to let you in on a friendly secret. Definitely contradicting the statement the rest of his features seemed to be making, and yet it seemed to fit perfectly, flawlessly into the whole as though it were a snapshot taken minutes before, and not an oil painting drawn over the course of the last hour.

I felt my heart leap to the back of my throat as the gathered students started to whisper quietly. Why did she have to do it? Why couldn't she have simply taken the hint and left well enough alone? I was breathing faster, and I tried to calm down, thinking that it could only last so long, and then it would be over. It wasn't very comforting.

Finally the inevitable happened. "Hey! That's Brayden!" one of the boys sneered loudly.

Everybody in the room turned to look at me. It was almost funny, really. It had taken them nearly a minute to discover what needed only a quick glance to affirm. The painting was nearly a perfect representation of me.

"Really?" I intoned, trying to sound interested.

"Yeah, it looks like you've got yourself a girlfriend!" he whispered in my ear as he walked on past. I knew that recess was going to be torture.


That Samantha Johnson! She had only been here for a few days, with her dark hair, wide eyes, and perfect drawings, and already she had ruined my reputation! There was only one thing for it. As I walked the short distance to my house from the school in Rustboro I decided that it would have to be tonight, while Ben was still home. There would be no way for me to get it done once he left, and this would restore again my ruined reputation among the other students.


I lay in bed, waiting for the time to be right. Every few moments, I glanced at the clock on the bedside dresser. 10:34 read the glowing blue letters, the seconds constantly changing, counting upwards to the next minute. When was he going to go to sleep? Mom and dad were out of town, and that’s why he was here, watching me for them, but usually he went to sleep at ten sharp. I glanced around at the small room as I waited, as though making a list of every item contained in the little space would somehow decrease the wait.

As soon as one walked into the room, the wall was immediately on the left; if you opened the door too forcefully you would smack it into the wall! There was only about six feet of space on the right of the door, making the square room nearly nine feet across. My bed was tucked up in the corner opposite the door, so that the long edge was facing the room’s entrance. I lay so that I could clearly see the light creeping beneath the small space between the carpet and the start of the wood, with a wide window centered in the wall behind me. There was a small closet on the opposite wall, with my feet pointing directly at the door when I slept.

Aside from the cupboards and dressers placed occasionally along the walls however, the room seemed bare, vacant. I usually kept a nice messy area in the final corner of the room, on my big desk for Pokémon stuff. There was an empty space there tonight, Ben had borrowed the desk that evening for something, I hadn’t bothered to ask what.

I glanced back up at the clock again, 10:41. As though it were a cue, the light outside the doorway snapped off, and my heart started racing with excitement. I tried to calm down, the last thing I wanted was to get caught because I was breathing too loudly.

I silently gathered everything that I would need, and carefully stepped into the hallway a mere twenty minutes later. I could hear snoring, so I was certain that Ben really was asleep. I placed my bag down just outside my door, and tiptoed quietly across the hall to the guest room. It used to actually be Ben’s until he moved out, but he was sleeping in there now. Thankfully the door was open slightly, and I slipped in without making much noise.

I tiptoed quietly across the room to the bulging bag near the window. The light of the full moon was more than enough to allow sight in the semi darkness. I unzipped the bag slowly, watching the rise and fall of my brother’s silhouette for irregularities all the while. Finally, it was open. I reached inside and took out an empty Pokeball, then stood and surveyed the room. Over on the navy blue nightstand beside his head was the belt containing his current team of six Pokémon. I wasn’t certain which Pokémon he had with him right now, but I grabbed the closest one and shoved it in my pocket.

I tiptoed back across the room. It wasn’t really like it mattered which Pokémon I grabbed anyways. Anything that you could catch near the city would be a piece of cake for one of Ben’s Pokémon; he was after all one of the most promising contenders in this spring’s upcoming Pokémon League competition. I got out of the room without a hitch, pulling the door mostly closed behind me and carefully, after grabbing my pack, moved out the front door, making certain that there was no sound coming from the house behind me before heading north to the edge of the city. The fields and beach up there were usually crawling with Pokémon, if you took a bit of time to look for them properly.


I decided that the beach was probably not a good idea. While typically you would be hard pressed to find any really dangerous Pokémon this close to town, who knew what could be on the beach in the middle of the night? I had heard tales of giant Tentacruel that had pulled unsuspecting travelers into the ocean at night; I had no intention of testing out the validity those stories.

I headed confidently towards the open fields, walking along the pathway lined with ancient foreboding oaks, leering down on travelers by the light of the crescent moon.