Incipience

Wishes

I remember that last day with her. The day before she was due to turn 13. It was a bright, sunny day and the park where she'd play was just as welcoming. The air was refreshing and as the world went up and down with the swing, I thought the days ahead would be amazing. The years of suffering were over in my mind.

Her birthday came. I was the first one she said "Good morning" to that day. I remember the pearly smile she gave me, her warm and comforting grasp as we headed to the kitchen.

The day continued. Emily and I had the day to ourselves. The sweet smells of the bakery just down the road lured us in and we stayed there for hours. Somehow, that made the outside air more refreshing. It was a city, so there was some lingering hints of cigarette smoke, but neither of us cared enough to let it bother us.

That night, we headed out of the city and to the fields nearby. Fireflies and their lights came out to greet us. As she sat down and looked up, I couldn't help but sneak a glance too.

For the first time ever, I saw stars. They shone with a passion, with determination, happy no constant car headlights or windows of buildings were out-shining them. I will never forget the sight of them. And as what humans called a shooting star flew over us, I found myself making a wish.

Whatever higher spirit there is above, please, help me find time to come back and marvel the beauties of the night sky.

It was the one thing that made me happier than ever. And as Emily slept in her bed, I sat there, wondering if the small little store stars would stick to the ceiling.

I was cold. I was alone. I was miserable, and wet, much like the rain that pattered at my shelter. I squirmed to make myself more comfortable amongst the trash as the constant rumbling of the truck dared to lull me to sleep. I sat there, huddled with my new form. Despite the sadness I felt, tears didn't dare fall. Instead, it was morphed into anger. I blinked angrily as I stared at my body. It had changed to one of a Banette, the old Pokemon in old stories. The one story I was foolish enough not to believe.

I felt a multitude of emotions. Sadness quickly turned to anger. Anger at her. She had let this happen. It was her fault. Anger turned to bloodlust.

I'd kill her for this. I'd make her pay for the hell I was suddenly thrown into. A chuckle escaped my zippered mouth. I felt the truck stop and I got a brief glimpse of the stars above, shining brightly.