Forgotten Paths Sporking. Chapter 1 -- Merciless
-“Alright…but why do people assume that trainers only care about battling, I mean we could succeed in coordinating too…”
Because, coordinating is the minority, duh.
“Kathe, you should stop”
We hate full-stops.
Alex said that pointing at me, my hands began to quake and the steak piece in my mouth began to rip apart as my teeth grew closer in a tight grimace…
I didn’t feel any emotions, and thus I describe coldly how I react.
This is a good case of show-don’t-tell, but it doesn’t work from first POV.
“Oh sorry, Saif, but-”
“Its okay, no harm done…I just think I chocked and I need some fresh air”
I spit the piece from my mouth and left to the dock, Alex looked at Katherine accusingly and Mark gritted his teeth…then stood up announced he will go take a walk
“Kathe, how many times did we warn you? He’s not solid rock, he is a little sensitive and you stepped on his soft spot”
She said defensively:
“Well he should get over it, it’s not like he lost everything! We are still beside him”
“Well to him he did…and your right but he needs time, perhaps--”
BLECH.
I am not hungry anymore…
I don’t want to spork anymore. >< I hate this story with the fiery intensity of a million Foreman Grills.
I didn’t have this optimism either…neither did I hear this normally comforting conversation…all I had on my mind was looking at the red horizon and hoping for a better tomorrow…
Am I becoming nocturnal?
Am I supposed to care? You’re losing all reader empathy save for those who only read this to show that they like you.
I thought that detached, looking blindly on the setting sun; I did not look away until it sank into the horizon, creating a negative image in my eye…
As it set, I walked up the stairs to dock.
I thought that detached? What does that even mean--Negative image in my eye?!
Negative is what I am thinking about now…negativity is what ruined my life…stole my second family, and left me like an orphan boy in Tokyo’s main streets, blinded by light and fear.
What’s Tokyo? I thought we were suspending disbelief so we can -I don’t know- ENJOY THE FANTASY STORY?!
As it left, its light swapped by a blue shadow, even deepening from the baby-blue ocean, adding to my darkness of thoughts, only sounds hear able were the laughter and chatter of people, witch made me even more detached, and the sound of the waves crashing into the ship, the rising sound of water clashing into the sides.
Again, another witch. Where are they coming from?
Asking myself, what got me this far?
Why did I write this?
My mind, it guides my actions.
I am seriously going to delete this whole ****ing story.
Asking myself what will lead me to madness, what will be the logic answer?
I mean, this story sucks. It just does.
Intervention: This is where it went awry. I shall continue with the same dark atmosphere I started with.
NO! DON’T!
No dark thoughts wandered my mind. Nothing wandered my mind, but the reflection of my face on the steel fence that held me from the sea.
Psychic…
The semi-finalist, I was once called. For every time I participated in the Hoenn Pokémon contests with Ielas, I emerge the second.
Countless times I waited months, each contest passing like the one before it.
I grew used to it…
Darkness bred within me…
No emotional investment from me. I don’t care enough in you to feel sad, nor should any self-respecting reader. You’re a boring Emo Git.
Feelings of intensive anger and irrational fury boiled up, until I could stand it no more…
I jazzed myself.
I still cannot believe myself for tearing off the second-place ribbon from Ielas’s chest, and throwing it on the ground with uncontrollable fury…Nor could anyone else. Small an event it sounds, it opened the public’s eye before one of its fiercest trainers, and the most unstable of them.
That I am an Emo Git.
I will not say that this is one of the reasons I left Hoenn, but it probably is.
CRY ME A DAMN RIVER, BUILD A DAMN BRIDGE, AND JUMP AND DIE FROM IT.