Okey Dokey, so this is my first fictional story. I don't plan on writing a 2nd chapter but I might consider it if there are a few who like this and want to know how it goes on. ^^
And please no haters, I tried my best but if there is any good advice, I am always open to it.
And please everyone, leave a comment, k? ^^
Chapter 1: The Return to Home
"Hold the thief!! Quick, he is going to escape!! Hold the thief!!" the old chubby baker yelled, waving his thick arms to draw the people's attention towards the fleeing boy running several feet in front of him.
He stumbled a few times, trying to keep up with the thief but luckily managed to stay on his feet. After a few more moments the baker had to give up, however, breathing heavily as he leaned against the house wall.
"Damn it!" he mumbled as he watched the boy turn around a corner. All this day's work gone, for what? Nothing at all. "I will get you..." he vowed to himself, turning around and returning to his bakery.
Meanwhile, the small boy kept on running. He wasn't sure if he was still followed or not but wanted to make sure to bring as much distance between them as possible. After a while, however, his growling stomach forced him to stop. Right now he was in a small park. He spotted several Caterpies and Pidgeys between the trees. Brandon stood still and watched them for a short while, smiling. He loved pokemon almost more than anything else in the world. Only his family was more important to him. He sat down on a bench, leaning back, still breathing heavily and closed his eyes. He enjoyed the peace. He could still hear the city's noise, of course, but in this small park they weren't as loud and intense.
That last one was close he realised. If the old man had caught him..oh well better not think about it. He was lucky to have escaped. If the baker had had a pokemon or any of the bystanders...he really needed one for himself. It might be crucial next time. And being able to defend oneself always is a good thing. He pulled his bag from his back and placed it on his lap, opening it to have a look at his catch. Several tasty looking sandwiches, a few brezels and a huge, brown loaf of bread. It was't that much, granted, but at least it might be able to keep them them from getting hungry for at least a few days, if they were smart enough to ration it, that is.
Brandon brought his hand into the pocket of his grey linen pants, pulling out a few dollars.
"Damn it..." he mumbled, staring down at the money.
Most of the it was gone, so he probably would have to steal some more. They had bought a few blankets and pillows from the last money, which was the right decision in his eyes but still, it hurt to see the money dwindle like that. If he only had a pokemon...it might be able to help him gather all the necessary stuff and life would be so much more easy, and safer. But he didn't and it was not like he had the means feed that one anyway.
"Damn it.." he mumbled once more, pulling a sandwich out of the bag, before closing the bag again and throwing it back over his shoulder. "..if only they were older. Why is it always me who has to do all the difficult stuff..."
Brandon looked up at the blue sky. The sun was shining and it was a warm summer day. He truly hated summer. He loved winter, however, those chilly days...they made him feel happy. He didn't know why but who cares about reasons anyway. If he were to choose a pokemon he would probably want to have an Ice-type. They were just...so cool.
After another short while of sitting on the bench and daydreaming, Brandon finally got up again, leaving the park while munching on his sandwich. He stopped at the park's entrance, standing in front of one of the main streets of the city. The cars were booming past him at an immense speed. It was around 6pm, meaning most of the people were on their way home from work. Many of them had pokemon with them. Looking straight ahead, he spotted a Golduck, an Oddish and a few Squirtels walking in front of him. He had to smile once more. It just was such a pleasure to see pokemon.
Brandon turned his head to the right and looked down the busy street. The people were way too occupied with their own business to notice the young boy. Saffron city was a very large city, after all. The people had to work and tend to their own work or they wouldn't be able to feed their families and go on in life. Money, it was all about money.
"Greedy crows...they have everything they need and still want more..." Brandon uttered as he turned on his heels and disappeared in a narrow back street.
The large buildings swallowing the boy as he headed back towards his home. It took him another hour, wandering through dirty back alleys, occasionally watching pokemon settling their differences and eating his sandwich before he eventually emerged from the shadow's once more. Now standing in front of a dirty and rundown old warehouse. He walked up to its barred door and stopped right in front of it, looking around to check if anyone was watching him. Upon not seeing anyone he removed some of the pieces of wood, blocking the entrance and quickly disappeared inside the building. The building was officially closed and commoners were not allowed in it, so he had to be careful.
He barred the door from inside, turned around and looked down a long old dirty hallway. Its walls were painted with wax crayons, immediately signalising the person that children lived in here. The air was sticky and dusty. A few rays of the sun came through the barred entrance, causing the dust to sparkle and dance in the sunlight. Sighing out, he started to walk down the corridor. It was about seven feet high, five feet broad and around 32 feet long. Mostly legendary pokemon could be seen, roaming the walls.
Turning his head to the left, Brandon saw a majestic Ho-oh drifting up into the sky, dragging a beautiful multicolored rainbow behind him. Further down a spiky Zapdos battled a blue Latios, sending its sparks and lightning bolts in every direction. The left walls background was a light blue, getting darker the higher it went. There were clouds, stars and the sun on it. That wall resembled the sky.
To his right, however, was the ocean. It started off with a light blue as well but got darker the further down it went. White waves could be seen with Tentacools, Gyarados or Remoraid's swimming in it. Even a silver Lugia could be seen swimming near the bottom. It's eyes sparkling in a bright blue. Brandon stared at the Lugia for a few minutes, suddenly realising how his hand started to tremble. He had a dream, that one day he would be able to sit on a Lugia, flying through the infinte sky, forgetting all his sorrows.
"This will never come true." the boy mumbled, shaking his head and continuing on his way down the hallway.
At the end of it was a door with a mirror attached to it's back. Brandon stopped in front of the mirror, staring at his poor self. What he could see was a thin, frail boy with shoulder long brown messy hair, wearing a casual black shirt which's right sleeve was torn off, grey knee long pants and dirty black sneakers. His face was the worst, though. Despite his mere 13 years of age it displayed deep mental wounds and exhaustion. Brandon quickly lowered his gaze and walked through the door. He now stood in a large room, which was around 50feet broad and high and around 80feet long. It probably has been a theater once, going by it's looks and structure, Long ago before he even was born. To both his sides were long rows of dirty, moldy red chairs, most of them broken. Further down was a dark wooden stage, around 4 feet high stairs leading up on both sides. A very large red curtain hung from the wall, right over the stage. The walls were painted with all kinds of different pokemon. There were Staraptors chasing each other, Tyranitars brawling or Rapidash racing. And many more.
"I am back!!" Brandon called out, walking down between the rows, wondering where they could be.
I bet behind the curtain! he thought as he approached the stage. Suddenly he saw movement behind the curtain and right after a young girl stuck out her scrawny head.
"There you are! Where have you been, Bran?!" the seven years old girl yelled, jumping down from the stage and glomping her older brother. "We were worried!" she mumbled, looking up at Brandon with a sad smile. "But I knew you would come back! George, though, he said they probably caught you or something. Dun worry! I punched him for saying that." Janine said happily.
Like her brother she was a frail girl, wearing a long, dirty, sleeveless brown dress going down to her knuckles, having short brown hair and walking barefoot.
Brandon leaned down to her, smiling and patting her head. "Well done, don't listen to George. You know he loves to joke. Here, take this and deposit it in the storage room, alright?" Brandon whispered to her and handed her the bag full of food, patting her head once more as she nodded.
With a sad expression on his face he watched her running off, hugging the bag tightly to her chest. She was a happy girl and this was no place for her. She deserved better, he knew that but still. There was nothing else he could give to her. The older boy watched her leave, scratching the back of his head. He loved his siblings with all his heart, though, at times he almost wished he lived alone. Sometimes he felt he did a terrible job caring for them and if he was alone he wouldn't have to worry about bringing them through the daily life and could be on his own and pursue his dream to become a pokemon master.
He shook his head. That was just another of his stupid dreams. He was out of that age. He had to face reality. And he would never leave his siblings alone. Brandon was 100% certain of that. He just couldn't. What would he do without them? What would they do with him? They needed and depended on each other. Moreover, he promised their mother on her death bed that he would take good care of them. Well, he wasn't sure about the good but at least he tried his best to take care of them.
"Mother.." he mumbled, feeling how a tear ran down his cheek.
He had loved her but she was gone now, forever and it was his fault. His fault alone, if only he had been faster or stronger... Quickly wiping the tear away he walked up the stage and behind to curtain to meet his younger brother. George was 10 years old, more muscular than Brandon and taller as well. Brandon didn't know why, after all he was three years younger. He loved his brother as well, even though they often argued and sometimes even fought each other. George was sitting on the floor with his back leaning against the wall. His eyes were closed, though, Brandon knew he didn't sleep. George's hands rested on his lap, folded.
"Time to wake up. We have work to do!" Brandon called out, kicking him.