That Hated and Loved Me
Disclaimer: I WISH I owned Pokemon, but I don’t, sadly…birthday gift idea!
I was eight, and my life was awful. I was a victim of planned marriage to a
red-haired brat with an Oddish, my parents never understood that I hated
her. Or, if they did, they didn’t care. The only things that understood me
were my Growly, the family growlithe, and my roses. Every night when I went
upstairs to cry myself to sleep, Growly was there, and he could understand
me. A dozen roses, in all different colors, were always by my bed in a
little glass vase with gold accents. They were my salvation. And the colors
were magnificent. Reds, pinks, yellows, golds, blues, lavenders, I even
remember a silver one. Roses and Growly. My life was tragic.
One night, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I took Growly, and I ran as
far as I could from Jessebelle, my fiancée. She yelled for me to stop, but
I didn’t care. She hardly cared about my life, so I didn’t care about hers.
I ran for about an hour, then the cold took its toll on me. I fell down
in the cold snow, and told Growly to run home and save himself. I don’t
remember much after that, just a light and words like ”James!” “Why?” and
“You never do this!” I think I had frostbite and hypothermia. I spent a
week in bed, with Jessebelle and Growly by my bedside. It was the worst and
the best week of my life. Growly always hated Jessebelle, and he expressed
that quite openly while I was sick. Whenever Jessebelle tried to feed me
chicken noodle soup, and say stuff like “James, you know you shouldn’t have
done that, but at least it’s bring us closer,” Growly would ‘accidently’
knock the soup over on her. It was funny, and it gave her a reason to get
out of my room. It usually took her half an hour to change, then another
forty-five to go explain to my parents what happened, and finally fifteen to
find my room again. But right before she came back in, I told Growly not
to do that…at least until the next day.
But that was the past, and the worst kind. I still don’t know why my
family treated me like that. Maybe they hated me. Maybe they didn’t know
better. But whatever the reason, it wasn’t acceptable to treat a child like
that, not even me. I know these are deep thoughts for someone like me, or
for anyone, but whenever I look back on that, I’m scared witless. Sometimes
I think my parents thought money could buy love. I’ll never understand. I
hope I never will. But one day, they decided to find me and actually try to
love me. I was 17, and they played dead to try and get me. To make a long
story short, Jessebelle took me to her training room and trapped me in
there. I got out, and I found Jessie. We almost kissed, but Mewoth butted
in. The next time we met was much more enjoyable.
I was 22, and my old friends had abandoned me. Jessie, I think it was,
found Kevin. She instantly fell in love with him, and vica-versa. He was
tall, brown hared, and blue-eyed. What she saw in him was beyond me. But,
when she was proposed to, I broke down and cried. I wasn’t jealous; far
from it. I was scared. Jessie was going to leave me on my butt on the
curb. Mewoth decided to go with Jessie. So, now my butt was on the curb,
and my heart was right beside me with a sharp knife in it. I had nothing
but enemies and my family. My so-called family that never understood me.
The boss called me. He told me since no one was available for my partner I
was fired. So, let’s re-cap: I was on the curb, my heart was right beside
me with a sharp knife in it, and the knife said, “You are hopeless” on it.
I had no chose but to go home with my pokemon. It was either that or go
jump off a bridge. It was a hard choice.
When I did get home, the butler opened the door. He wasn’t our old butler.
He said his name was Charles. He was tall, blonde, and had the weirdest
hazel eyes. They could almost express the way he felt by the color of the
eyes. I told him I was Master James, and he took me inside.
In one of the many parlors in the house, my parents were having tea. They
took one look at me, in my dirty khakis and torn olive shirt, and screamed
with joy.
“JAMES!!!” My mother yelled, as she was running to me, “Hon, we missed you
so much!”
“Old sport, how are you doing?” My father yelled, hugging me.
“Mother? Father?” I was dumbfounded. I thought they would just have
sent me out to the curb like Jessie did. “I’m glad to be home. Is
Jessebelle still here?”
“Oh no. She’s in a crazy house. She was stark craving mad.” My father
told me.
.
“I coulda told you that.” I said. Then I realized something. Growly. I
ran outside to the doghouse.
“GROWLY!!!” I was yelling and running. I pounded on the door when I
finally got to the house. Another butler opened the door and called Growly
down.
“Growly, it’s me boy!” I called to him. I heard something like a small
elephant herd. I say my Growlithe running down the stairs. He ran out of
the door and licked my face like I was gone forever. Well, in his eyes, I
guess I was gone forever. He got his favorite gold Frisbee, and we played
for what seemed like hours. I saw my parents looking at me, and I think
they actually appreciated me for once. I will never forget that look on
their faces. It was a magical look, and my mother was about to cry. It was
so amazing. I almost cried myself. They looked at me with such enjoyment;
I couldn’t help but look back. I ran to them and hugged them. I never,
ever wanted to leave them again.
I’m 25 now. Jessie and I still talk 2 times a week, and they have a
2-year-old named Narissa. I’m still single, and I’m a doctor at a
pokecenter. I have led a hard life. But in the end, it was the ones I
thought hated me that loved me.
Like it? Love it? hate it? Well, anyways, if you like it, *please* e-mail
me back. Even if you don't tell me you hate it, and I'll send a happier one.
Thanks for making a site about Team Rocket!
Rosie Q
ps: I'm trying my best to make a why can't we get along page, with
rocket-shipper vs aint-shippers. It's not done, but I'll tell you when it
is. Thanks again!
