Pokemon: Path to the Unknown

Chapter no.1 Prologue

"Thanks," Peter responded.

"Is everything at school alright? You sound weak," she probed further, her motherly intuition kicking in.

"No mom, everything's A-OK," Peter assured her, masking his frustration with a forced cheerfulness.

"That's good. Are you taking care of your health?" she continued.

"Yeah," he replied, his response brief, not wanting to delve into the realities of his less-than-ideal lifestyle.

"Don't play around too much, ok," she cautioned.

"Ok, mom," Peter responded.

"Study hard, ok, my little pookie bear," she said endearingly, her affectionate nickname for him making him feel both loved and slightly embarrassed.

"Thanks, mom," Peter said, quickly ending the call before she could sense his discomfort or delve any deeper. He placed the phone down, wrapping one hand over his head.

It was a lie, a carefully constructed facade that I'd maintained with an expert's skill. 

I hadn't been to the university in months, maybe longer. 

Reflecting back, it was three years ago when my journey started, moving from Silver Spring, MD to Washington DC for my studies. 

Initially, everything about the city seemed dazzling and full of promise. 

A new city, new faces, the exhilarating feeling of a fresh start, and even the hint of a new love lurking around the corner. 

Yet, three months after my admission, when the first semester was halfway through, a stark realization hit me - I was utterly alone. 

As I looked around, everyone had seamlessly formed their own cliques, their laughter and camaraderie echoing in the halls, a stark contrast to my solitude. 

"Crap, crap, crap," I muttered to myself, a sense of panic setting in. 

"I'm too slow. What do I do?" The overwhelming feeling of being an outsider gnawed at me, especially when I sat alone for meals, feeling the imaginary weight of everyone's laughter and judgment.

For the first year, despite this isolation, I still attended classes, driven by a sense of duty and the fear of the consequences of not graduating. I was diligent, taking notes and pretending that everything was normal. But during my second year, something shifted. It felt as though an invisible force was anchoring my feet, rendering me incapable of moving towards what I knew I needed to do. Since then, my days at the university ceased.

Three years passed in a blur of gaming and aimless flapping.

"I can't go on like this," I often thought to myself, feeling a sense of desperation creeping in. 

"I need to do something, but what's the point now?" 

In three years, one could discover love, embark on countless adventures, or undergo significant personal growth. Yet, what did I achieve in these three years? Absolutely nothing.

As I pondered my future, the inevitable confrontation with my mother loomed large in my mind. 

"I'm screwed, absolutely screwed," I'd think, the anxiety of that impending revelation always present. 

I lacked any special talent or skill that could easily pave my way to a career. The fear of what lay ahead, coupled with the knowledge of my wasted years, left me in a state of paralysis, a prisoner of my own making. What would become of me when the truth came out? 

Peter sighed, closing Elden Ring with a sense of detachment. 

He just wasn't in the mood for it. His attention shifted as a strange notification popped up on his screen: