Sunday, February 24, 2013

Lynette - Diary Entry 1-1 -

Lynette's Diary

Do Not Read


Entry: The First (Prologue)

Heck, I've never written one of these before. Am I missing anything? Ehm, anyway, I guess I'll start with today. Yep, My 21st birthday. So much happened today it's difficult to recall how it all began. I guess it was a fairly normal day, how cliche, huh? I woke up, dragged myself to the shower and really threw on my makeup as methodically as always. I could tell today was going to be different, though. You get that... that feeling. My day had just arrived today. I knew it. Anyway, as I placed the last of my blush delicately on as I normally had, a doorbell resonated through my house. Thank Arceus I had already put on my clothing. I stumbled through the only room in my house on the second floor: my bedroom. I would describe it if I could, I mean, I cannot for the life of me remember the color of the floor. I think it would be quaint if it wasn't littered with all of my stuff. Old clothes that I didn't need anymore, posters of my favorite bands hiding the walls, you know. Teenage stuff. Anyway, I shuffled downstairs as quickly as I could as another bell resonated. "I'M COMING!" my voice sounded hoarse like it did every morning. The rest of my house isn't very impressive, either. Imagine the smallest apartment ever. You know, maybe a 10x10 foot room, and a very small kitchen nearby. That's exactly what the first floor is, just with a bedroom shoved on top. Again, I don't really bother to clean the rooms, I'm a single twenty-- erm-- twenty-ONE year-old-girl who lives alone! What's my motivation? 

The doorbell rang a third time. The door wasn't far from the stairs so I could just reach for it. "You, sir need to just hold your ponytas." I could tell my voice was too low for him to hear, but something made me pray he had heard it. I mean, 3 chimes in 3 minutes is pretty ridiculous. I opened it to a boy -- postman, to be more exact. He seemed to stiffen as the door creaked open. Strangely, I knew this was no regular delivery. Usually, he'd toss the package on my door front and be on his way, but the important deliveries always required some sort of signature or something. Some proof that I had received whatever it was. I wasn't wrong either. It was hard to see if he was nervous; the sun blocked his face, but with a single clear of the throat, he proceeded with an obviously predetermined speech

"Congratulations, Lynette DePouilles, on your submission to the Pokemon League Board of Directors. Your request has been placed into careful evaluation and after these long months, the Board has reviewed many cases similar to yours. We at the Institute of Humane Treatment of Pokemon have also read through your records and feel no other decision than to grant you your request. I have been sent today in order to personally recognize and witness your entrance into the League as this step is one that every trainer must recognize is an important decision and measure to take." 

His voice trailed off into some sort of spiel on the "danger and responsibility" each trainer must recognize and the such. This moment is huge for any young hopeful. It is the passing into adulthood. So why was mine so bitter-sweet? I wasn't exactly anxious to receive recognition, nor was I able to feel very accomplished. In fact, I wasn't ready to take this step yet. Most of it probably had something to do with my father. I just can't talk about him right now. every fiber of my being was nervous: almost terrified. As he continued speaking, my heart sunk even deeper. My eyes welled up. I knew I had no other decision than to leave for my journey, I mean, I was being evicted. The issue always led back to my father though...

Finally, the man stopped talking, and he shot this polite, congratulatory smile at me and handed me two things: first was a small, clean piece of illuminated plastic. That plastic was my license, my lifeline. It allowed me the ability to train, own, and battle pokemon. My very own Trainer Card. I hated that picture on the card, but I suppose everyone does. That didn't catch my eye, however.

In his other hand was a single, familiar orb. That shiny, unmistakable gleam was obviously a Pokeball. A single pokeball. My eyebrows furrowed, but I grabbed the two objects. "Why is there only one?" My confusion voiced itself, though I couldn't remove my eyes from it. Everywhere I had always heard of allowed a choice of three pokemon, usually that trio of elements.

"Actually, I have 5 more for you, but they're all empty... Recently there has been a shortage of pokemon... There have been all these laws to contain the extinction of them. Haven't you heard? Well, one of those laws is that every new trainer is given a predetermined pokemon to begin with. One that will easily be controlled."

Actually, I HAD heard of the shortage. The main, most controversial law was the one about how every trainer could only catch or kill a single pokemon on each route. Cameras watched across the entire world, constantly monitoring the trainers' every movements. The only place that was safe was where you lived, but I no longer had that luxury. I thanked the man and he went on his way. My heart skipped a beat as I released my very first pokemon from its ball. A flash of light blinded me...

(The Entry Continues on the next page.) 

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