21) Vacation

"I thought vacations were supposed to be relaxing."

"They are."

"Then remind me, why are we floating down this river again?"

"Who says vacations can't involve rafting?"

"Rafts aren't usually made of metal!" snapped a voice. The woman slammed a hand on the piece of bus they were currently on, just to emphasize her point. "For that matter, they usually come with actual paddles as well!"

"Well," said the man, "it's not like we knew we were going to get chased by that group of thugs on our vacation."

"Humph! Thugs we could have handled. But those people had authority on their side," said the woman snidely. "We could have handled them, too, but we'd have ended up legally taken in or something like that."

"You guys should stop squabbling and start paddling!" called the other, younger woman. She was at least practicing what she preached, as she was trying to steer the makeshift vehicle around rocks. However, the current was strong enough that she wasn't able to make for shore. "This could get dangerous! And I do not want to go through a fall a second time in a row!"

"What? You think there could be a waterfall ahead?"

"Why not?"

19-20

19) Gray

Two eyes blinked in the darkness. A shadow slipped through the night, blending in seamlessly with the shadows of landscape, of buildings, of the air. The night was ending, a thin seam of orange slowly seeping into the black, somehow changing it to gray instead of the dark orange one would expect. The shadow moved faster, as the blackness around it began to lift, revealing its silhouette much more effectively. This was not its time. It could not dwell in the moments of gray, the shadows and the shades. It could only dwell in the purest dark, or the purest light. But this night, it had gone too far from its lair. It would not reach it in time.

As the sun rose, the gray slowly dissolved. There was nothing in the landscape that the sun rose over, except for a spot of black that could have been the entrance to some sort of tunnel. But even that seemed to vanish in the light.

20) Fortitude

"You are very fortunate," the nurse tells me, as she hands me six Pokeballs. I know Skystorm is in one, and the Zigzagoon in the other. If I remember correctly, the rest should be empty, ready for me to capture other Pokemon to make them my own.

"Fortunate?" I ask.

"Yes!" she replies. "Most of the time, Pokeballs can contain Pokemon and prevent them from dying of poison, but since you didn't have any on you, your Wingull would most likely have died if your Zigzagoon hadn't come along with an antidote."

It's weird, hearing those two referred to as being "mine." But I guess they are mine, now.

"You showed great fortitude," she adds. "With a Pokemon injured like that, yet trying to press on and find this town. You obviously care very much for them, even if you don't have a license." She pauses. "Wait...why were you traveling without a license?"

Before I can answer, I hear the door being slammed open. That's a feat, considering this center's door is a sliding door.

"I've found you, Anna! You naughty girl!"

I know who it is.

And I run.

18) Rainbow

Two lone figures lay beneath the sky, looking up at the clouds floating by, flanked by a rainbow.

"We've come so far," murmured one. This one was most definitely human, or at least she appeared to be. She certainly had all the limbs necessary to make a human, her face had all the right features, but there was something off about them. Still, although the offness could be distinctly felt, you could look at her for hours and still not manage to figure out what it was.

The other one-it was definitely not human. It was much too small, for one thing. And no human had ever had a beak, or feathers. It was a Wingull, and he was the girl's partner.

"Skystorm, what do you think we should do next?" asked the girl, clearly worried. She had thankfully made it to the town without losing him, and the helpful Zigzagoon had joined the two of them. However, since she apparently had no Pokeballs with which to keep him in, he was currently being held at the Pokemon center. She had already filled out the paperwork, and was now simply waiting to be handed her trainer's license.

"I still have so many blanks in my mind..." she continued, rubbing her forehead. "I know all the species of Pokemon, but that's all I can remember, practically! I don't even know if training is what I wanted to do...but it seems I'm on my way to becoming a trainer, eh?" She gave a small shrug and managed to smile at Skystorm.

"Gull!" he replied. Anna took another look at the rainbow. The rainbow...a sign of hope and promises. She just hoped that would hold true.

17) Blood

"Ow!" groaned Kiran, trying to get his tail out from under the pile of books. He had been trying to dust them, but had unforunately misjudged their weight. And now he was forced to wait for someone to come save him-due to the angle he was trapped at, he couldn't free himself. And he just knew that trying to drag his tail out would damage either it or the books.

"Kiran!" called another voice. Aral appeared, looking quite annoyed. However, her expression quickly faded into one of concern, and she quickly crouched and began to carry books off Kiran's tail. After she lifted the last one, he slowly curled it up to see, and was not surprised to see the blood on it.

"Ugh, there's blood all over this book-oh god! Kiran, you're hurt!" Aral's tone turned into an urgent one, and she dropped the book she had been fussing over to look at Kiran's tail. He cocked an eyebrow in confusion, but allowed her to look over it.

"Oh, you'd better come along right away!" she muttered, dragging him off. He just shrugged. Since when did she get so protective?

15-16

15) Silence

The forest has grown quiet. The only sound is Skystorm's fading cries, and my own hurried footsteps. The lack of fallen leaves, and the rather soft carpet of grass beneath us, means that even the sound of those footsteps is muffled. My breathing is the loudest sound now.

We're lost, I think. It's hopeless. We'll never find a way out of here. Skystorm shifts in my arms, leaning his beak against my chest. The inflammation has definitely grown worse. I want to check on it more, but I don't think it's a wise idea to move him. I slump against a tree, only half-aware of what I am doing. I'm lost. It's hopeless.

"Zigoo?" squeaks a small voice. I jolt upright, and notice a small, rather friendly-looking raccoon-like Pokemon staring at me. Its fur is covered in a zigzagging pattern of alternating brown and cream, and it's holding something in its mouth. As I stare, it drops it at my feet. I pick it up-it's a bottle of some sort of medicine. I peer closer at the label.

"Antidote?" I mutter. I stare at Skystorm. He's definitely been poisoned. But will this cure him, or is it already too late? I take another look at the bottle. It's most likely meant to be consumed, so I carefully open Skystorm's beak and begin to drip the contents in. It seems to take a long time. The other creature-a Zigzagoon, definitely-doesn't leave, but rather stays rather contentedly at my side. I like this feeling. This feeling of having someone close to you, someone who cares about you and your companions.

It seems like an eternity, but at last the bottle is empty. The inflammation has subsided, and Skystorm now seems to be asleep. But it's a peaceful sleep. The Zigzagoon is asleep as well, head on my knee. And now, the silence no longer seems oppressive. I feel as if I, too, could fall asleep without any worries...

16) Questioning

"Where were you on the night of June 1st?" demanded the policeman, glaring at the boy sitting in the interrogation chair.

"What does that have to do with anything? Wasn't the crime committed on May 25th?" the youth replied, sweat trickling down his brow.

"That was my birthday! That's one strike against you," muttered the officer, writing something down in his notebook.

"Oh, so you're ripping off The Phantom Tollbooth now, aren't you?" declared the boy angrily, standing up and pointing an accusing finger. "I was pretty sure you were going to ask how I knew when the murder was. And I'll tell you! I did do it! But what are you going to do? The author's too squeamish to put in an actual death penalty scene, so I'll actually get off scot-free! How do you like that, huh, miss?"

"I dislike it very much!" replied the author. "You weren't even going to get the death penalty. don't you know they don't give the death penalty to minors? That's a whole other bag of worms ready to be opened. Anyways, this story is useless to me now. Oh, and just so you're aware, if you're alive by the end, you actually end up worse off. The dead get to see past the fourth wall with no restrictions. But you-you're just going to fade away and be remolded into something else. Goodbye."

14) Smile

"Smile," the man said, holding up a camera. "You should always smile! It takes less muscles to smile than to frown, don't you know that? And every day could be your last! You don't want to be found dead with a frown on your face, do you?"

"You're creepy," said the little boy, staring back at him, eyes wide.

"Oh child! Why would you every say that! I am wounded!" He placed his hand over his heart in a dramatic manner, gasping as if mortally injured. "I am most certainly not 'creepy,' as you say it! I merely wish to encourage the act of smiling, to spread my smiles throughout the world!"

"I don't want to smile," muttered the child, picking up the stuffed bunny he was carrying and holding it in front of his face. "I'm not going to smile. I'm not!" he repeated, a little forcefully. He wanted to get off the chair, but it was much too high up for his little legs. He wriggled in place for a while, wondering if his mommy would be mad if he ran away. But he couldn't run away anyways, so it didn't matter.

"Oh, child, really?" said the man, now sounding sad. "That is so disappointing. I am afraid I must force you to smile, then."

"How can you make me smile?" asked the boy. He had decided that it wouldn't be that bad a fall. Maybe his bunny would help by providing a landing pad.

"I have my ways. But it would be better if you just smiled for me." His voice was angry now, and he had put down the camera and was reaching for something behind him. "I have my ways. Smile, boy, or forever regret it!"

"You're scary!" screamed the boy. His stuffed bunny fell to the ground, and he made a motion to jump. Something flashed. And then he felt himself being skewed sideways, pulled to the ground, his mouth distorted, a cry coming from it...

And then it was over.

---------------------------------

"Your pictures, ma'am!" said the man. He bowed professionally, handing her the stack. "Now your child will smile forever in these images. You will never be bothered by his tantrums again. You will never again have to endure the pain of his frowns. Your world will be just the tiniest bit more perfect."

"Thank you, sir," said the woman with a smile. "It was worth every penny."

"Always a pleasure. Always a pleasure to see someone with a smile."

13) Misfortune

"So, Wingull," I say as we stroll along, "I think I should give you a name of some sort. It's getting awkward just calling you 'Wingull' all the time. That is, if you don't mind? I mean, I assume you have a name of your own, but everything you say sounds the same to me, so I really don't have any idea what to call-"

"Wing," he says, placing a wing over my mouth. He then nods vigorously, apparently giving me the go-ahead to name him as I please.

"Skystorm," I say at last. The Wingull looks at me for a while, and I wonder if I've made a grave mistake, but he finally nods, apparently accepting my choice. We continue on through the forest. So far, we haven't seen any other people around. It's almost creepy how quiet it is...

However, disaster strikes just as I think this. A small, red, caterpillar-like Pokemon leaps out of the trees above us, its large single horn stabbing into Skystorm's flesh. The Wingull gives a cry of pain, but dives down to strike viciously at his opponent with his beak anyways. The battle is fierce and furious, but over quick. The remains of the creature-a Wurmple, I think it was called-lie at Skystorm's feet, and he flies tiredly back to my shoulder. Suddenly, however, he slumps over with a cry of pain. I notice the inflammation around one of the puncture wounds on his wing. Poison? If I'm not mistaken, Wurmple horns can transmit a potent venom.

"Oh no," I whisper, taking him in my arms. "No!" I can't believe my misfortune. I have no idea where the next town is, or if it will even have any medical supplies available. What can I do? The poison seems to be hurting Skystorm more and more, even as I look at him. I have no choice. I take off running in a random direction, praying that I have chosen correctly. Who will be my companion if he dies? Who will listen to what I have to say? Who will help me regain my memories?