[Pokémon] Flying in the Dark

Hey, here is another fic by me that I have recently started. If you don't know me already, I am the author of the finished fic, Survival Project. It was a ton of fun writing and finishing that fic and I want to try my hand at another journey fic.

The fic will be an epistolary fic, which means the story will be entirely told in letters. While this sounds boring to some, I can ensure you plenty of description, both emotional and physical, will be present enough to keep you interested. The journey will have many ups and downs and there will be many secrets to uncover about the Kalos region and its people. There will be two letters released at a time every two weeks or so.

I would like to say that there will be no spoilers for X/Y except for town names, route names, and description of game graphics. Another disclaimer is that I do not own pokemon in its entirety.

Please feel free to read, review, or, preferably, in my case, both. Thanks!

Story is rated borderline PG-13 for future sexual themes and complex concepts such as death.

// . PM LIST

-

// . LETTERS

1, 2 - this post

xxx

LETTERS 1 AND 2

April 21

Dear Markus Samaras,

I know I'll be lucky if you even open this, but please do not throw away my letter just yet. They all told me that this was a stupid idea on my part. They all told me that you'll probably want nothing to do with me, people "like you" (their words, not mine) don't want an outsider's pity, but I'm not here to give you pity. I'll explain why I'm writing to you later. I need to get your attention as quickly as possible, don't I? So don't throw this letter away yet, because I believe in you. I'd bet my life on you—every single part of it. Oh, and yes, I'm well aware that I hardly know you.

Where do I start? I don't want to bring you down, but I've been asked again and again, "How could you be so foolish, Haley? What are you thinking?" And it's not just because I'm writing to a man in prison. If that sounds harsh, I'm sorry, but I don't like to sugarcoat things. I want things to be as realistic and as honest as possible. Let me tell you a little bit about myself. I just turned eighteen. For a while I have been reevaluating my life, wondering if I was really where I wanted to be, being homeschooled in this city with its blinding lights and noises that say nothing. (I'll tell you where I'm from and where I'm going if you decide to write to me, but not right now. I still have to play it safe.) I was always waiting for something to happen, but nothing ever did. I recently realized that it was up to me to do something about my life. This year I had my golden birthday. What a perfect opportunity, right? I told my parents I no longer wanted schooling. Instead I want to travel from city to city with my pokémon, the only ones that have ever been there for me and understood me.

I guess you could be asking why I am writing to you if I seem to detest people so much. It's not that I detest them, really. It's quite the opposite. I want to know everyone and everything. Someone once asked me if I strive for omnipotence. Maybe, but I know it's impossible. I want to be that person that someone approaches on the street because they need somebody, anybody at all. I want to be that person who hears all kinds of life stories simply because I look approachable and friendly. That means I want to know everything about you, but I understand if you don't want to tell me everything right away. I'm hoping this will be something we can do in the long run, so I am okay with learning about you slowly. Anyway, I just don't think the people here are living up to their full potential. Every day I see the same faces, even though there are so many. Every day I see them going to the same places with the same disgruntled looks and slouched shoulders. How bizarre and unsightly. I don't like it. There's got to be something better out there.

I'm sorry if I'm saying too much all at once. That's just how I am. I can tell you more basics if it makes you feel better. If you're wanting to here more of my thoughts, I'm sorry to disappoint you. Well, my father is my teacher and a stay-at-home dad for me and my younger brother, Joey. My mother works as a nurse at a pokémon center. They're all against what I want to do. They don't think I can become knowledgeable out in the real world, or, mostly in my brother's case, they think it's too dangerous. I've tried to see where they're coming from, but we're too different. The only person I'm particularly close to is my grandmother. She gave me my first two pokémon, Seybs and Ribbons. Seybs was a gift for Christmas when I turned thirteen. She thought it was appropriate to celebrate my transition into being a teenager. Seybs is a young pidgeotto and I named him because Seybs is a shortened version of my grandmother's previous surname. People thought this was weird, but Seybs likes it and I do, too. Why can't pokémon be named after humans, too? I just wanted to show my grandmother that she's special. I know she's not supportive of me either, but she is doing her best, and that is what counts. I know she's trying because she bought Ribbons for me from a professional breeder in Johto recently. She said I needed another pokémon that wasn't as lazy as Seybs. Sorry, Seybs, but I have to agree. Ribbons is a natu. The red spike on the back of his head reminded me of a ribbon, hence his name. Because he's so protective and alert, he's truly like a prize to me. He's a symbol of what I want to accomplish on my upcoming journey. I've only had him for a week and I can already tell he'll be a great pokémon.

I guess I should tell you why I'm writing to you. Along with wanting to meet people, I just want to see new sights, things I've never seen before. New lights, festivals and parties, anything at all. I don't think those kinds of things should be left to the eye alone. The view becomes especially spectacular when you can describe it to someone else and make them feel the same as you did when you first saw it. That's the kind of connection I want with you. Is that too weird? And you're probably wondering… Why you, of all people? Well, my brother is one year younger than me and he's been in a whole lot more trouble than I have. He claims that's why he knows my journey is dangerous. He's handled drugs with many people of many different ages. He said he knows you because of that. I don't want to assume you're in jail because of drugs, but that's what's in my mind right now. He says you probably got caught one day and sent to jail for rehabilitation. Is this true? Again, I don't want to push you, but I don't want to make assumptions, either. I chose you because I had to choose someone, and someone my brother knows is the best it's going to get. Also, I feel that you will appreciate knowing about the outside world from someone else's point of view until you're free and can see it for yourself.

I don't know anything about you, but I would like to. Won't you write back to me?

Sincerely,
Haley Zamor

xxx

May 10

To Haley,

You can call me Mark. Markus makes me sound like I'm old, though I am already thirty and am having trouble moving and moving on, if you know what I mean. I am indeed a former drug addict, though there may or may not be a part of me—maybe an arm, maybe a leg—that still craves the stuff once in a great while. You say you want to know everything about me, so I start with that. I will not give you details, but I will tell you everything you want to hear. I don't believe in sugarcoating, either, and as you will learn, I am very blunt. I don't leave room for questions that I don't want you to wonder about. Ask me direct questions and I'll sidestep you the best that I can, but if you ask me indirectly, you will, in time, learn almost everything that you are aching to know. I will tell you the truth, but there will be no honesty. If anything, I would be your enigma. Are you still interested in talking to me?

I've been thinking a lot about what I would say to you. There is not much to say. I too see the same things every day. I hear other inmates yelling obscenities and I see cold, gray bars. I see a blur of orange jumpsuits or an unforgettable shade of blue on the cops that occasionally swing by. All I've been doing is lying on my rather uncomfortable cot and looking at the ceiling. Above me is a very vast sky, but I can't see it, and, even if I could look through walls, first I'd see my neighbors, more ingrates that society deems unworthy of their time! But you are different. For some ungodly reason you want to talk to me… I do not recall your brother, I must say… Nonetheless, you are sweet, and even if you change your mind, I will not forget you.

The only thing that makes me stand out is that I will tell you stories like no other. I've been places, too, from the big places like Lumiose City to the small towns, like Santalune. I've had several jobs and met many people. Maybe we can help each other out. I must admit, however, that I tend to exaggerate a lot. My own parents inflated everything that ever happened to them. If a glass of milk was spilled, then the whole house was drowning. Do you get what I mean? Let me tell you the story of my birth, and maybe it will tell you where I went wrong. Supposedly, my mother was having quadruplets when she had me. Unfortunately, she knew not all babies would survive. Sure, we would all be born, and so we were, but my three brothers did not last long. She was, she said, a woman who could spit out fire in her sleep, after all... The fire struck all the babies after one week of her trying to suppress her powers, and I was the only one who survived the wounds. What really happened, I cannot tell you, but here I am, with no kinship to hold or scars to prove there were others like me. Again, are you interested in talking to me? You can still leave.

Regardless, I will not be like other adults and tell you what you are doing is silly and wrong. I have no place in telling you anything regarding morals. From the words you told me you want to know all about culture. Why do people act the way they do? What do they believe in? Those kinds of questions seem to be the ones you are asking. It should be obvious to you already that culture is not just about the foods people eat and their annual customs, like the schools mostly teach about.

Cultures are all integrated. They unintentionally bounce ideas off each other and alter themselves based off of what they learn. I will not give specific examples. I will leave it to you to learn about the individual cities here in the Kalos region.

Cultures are also changing all the time. What Lumiose City was like for me could totally be different from the Lumiose City you will see on your journey. Do not fret about this and think you are being cheated. It just means that you are seeing the better version of the city, and you should be grateful.

What else can I say? Cultures are strengthened by their values. Each individual you will meet may act in a specific way, either because of their culture or the way they were raised or a combination of both. Cultures are fluid and negotiable—something you do or say could change an entire culture! What would you think of that? Oh, and absolutely, cultures are unique to us human beings. Pokémon do not experience cultures the way we do. They experience communities, yes, but nothing as expansive or as wild as a culture. Perhaps, however, you can teach them what it is like to be you. Assuming you can't talk to your pokémon yet, they will appreciate it on those days where they cannot communicate with you fully.

It's almost just as important to know what cultures are not. A person's culture is not the sole explanation for anything a person does. Culture is not the result of a complete consensus; you will definitely meet rebels and outcasts. Culture is not the same thing as civilization or society, nor is it the same as being refined or sophisticated, as some may think themselves to be. Don't fall into these traps. One culture does not define us all, and one culture cannot make another look inferior or superior.

This is the best advice I can give you. …You must forgive me for taking so long to write to you. I would give an excuse but there is none.

Sincerely,
Mark

LETTERS 3 AND 4

May 13

To Markus,

I don't think your name makes you sound old, so I'm going to call you Markus from now on. In fact, I think it makes you sound wise, and, let me tell you this—I need someone wise in my life. And yes, I am still interested in talking to you. Telling the truth is the same as being honest to me. Even if you leave out certain facts, I can still form my own opinion based off of what you tell me. As long as I can do that, I am okay with you choosing what I should know. Again, Markus, you sound intelligent, and I bet I can learn a lot from you. I can't tell you how excited I am. Words can only say so much, but you do well with them, and so I must say thank you for telling me about cultures. It gave me a new perspective. I will tell you about my hometown in a minute, but I wanted to say first that I'm more than interested in all the stories you have to tell. I think I implied that earlier. What can I say? I have been kept up at night with thoughts of starting my journey. I don't do well with lack of sleep. I just want to get started. I've figured out my plan of action, though, which I will tell you about.

I am from Anistar City. Have you ever heard of it? It's closer to the mountain areas in Kalos, and the cities you mentioned being in are more central. It's a quaint city with blue glass ceilings on all the buildings. Every time I look up in my house it looks like the sky is as dark as ever, yet the windows on the side bring in enough light to keep you sane. Even when my shades are down I know there is sun because the plants on the roof of our buildings grow stronger and brighter with every passing day. Why people put plants on their roofs, I'm not sure, but it must have something to do with the blue glass ceilings. I'd tell you about my neighbors, but I don't think they'd appreciate me telling stories about them. We have a pokémon center here, just like in every place, and we have a gym. Not all places have a gym, right? Anyway, our gym leader, Olympia, is a psychic-type trainer, and her gym layout is a bit odd. She uses her psychic powers constantly in order to give people a view of what she believes is outer space. I've been in there a few times, just for a tour. I'll be there soon, as I'd like to officially face her in order to have a good memory of the city before I leave, and I already know I'll be feeling a bit woozy over how endlessly vast and outlandish the whole place seems.

I think, though, that Olympia chose outer space as her inspiration because of the one thing Anistar City is famous for: its giant sundial. On the west side of the city, there are docks overlooking the sea so that people may come to look at and pray for the sundial. In case you were wondering, I've seen the sundial many times. My parents may not let me travel to other cities, but they let me relish in what is here. The sundial has the appearance of an enormous pink and yellow jewel. To me, it also looks like a pokéball with spikes on the side, but no one believes me when I tell them this. In front of the sundial lies a circle of plants and a golden rock in the middle. It's our own, human-made sort of clock, though we know it can't compare. I sit on the golden rock and ponder. The clock ticks and I wonder where all the time goes. What happens to the rest of the world when I'm dreaming? Where do all the unsaid "I love you"s go, the ones I know I should say but don't? Do I enter an alternate world where I put the images in my head to use, and communicate with gestures alone rather than with all forms of pragmatics? I'd like to fix myself, but I can't fix myself if I don't know what is missing from my life. I would like to dream of my journey and my future, and I would like to tell my family and friends that I love them, but the point seems mute when no one will remember what I have to say when I'm gone. I like writing to you also because my letters are objects that remain as proof as to what has happened to me. I hope you don't burn them or lose them. Keep them somewhere safe. I'm counting on you.

As for my plan… Well, I obviously plan on leaving Anistar City. There's nothing wrong with my city in particular. In fact, I love it very much. I just feel that, with all the cities in Kalos, there is a better one for me. I hope to love all the cities so much that I can't possibly choose where to live. First I'm going to go west to Dendemille Town, and then even further west to Lumiose City. It wouldn't be a real journey without visiting the largest city in the world, would it? And then I'll branch out from all directions to visit Santalune, Laverre, and a few other places. Maybe I'll branch out further, but for now, this is all I've got. I don't mean to sound like an odd person, but I know that the prison you're in is in Laverre City. When I finally get there, whenever that may be, would you mind if I visited you? Letters are great, but it's an entirely different story to meet face-to-face. It's okay if you say no, and if you do say no, I might just not visit the city at all. Please let me know.

To travel, I'll need a lot of money. I hope to train Seybs and Ribbons to be strong so that we can fight trainers and earn money along the way. Without them, I don't think I'd be going anywhere. If you haven't noticed, I'm going to be a flying-type trainer. There's something interesting about birds that makes me want to keep them. The way they travel in flocks shows formality, teamwork and a type of healthy dependency that I could only hope to reach. And to be able to fly anywhere in the world with the ability to overcome any obstacle with a mere flap of the wings—of course, this sounds appealing to me! And the way they sing is beautiful. Seybs doesn't sing much, but Ribbons does sometimes. It sounds like a beautiful song that tells about a kind of love that does not really mean love in the sense that we know it, but love in a way that says finding someone special means finding home at the same time.

The only downfall to having flying-type pokémon is that cities aren't very friendly to them. There are hunters out there, and I'll never let my pokémon stray too far from me for this reason. Also, cities are so tall that birds have to use a great amount of energy just to fly above them. Usually, they don't use enough energy and instead get confused and crash into windows. They also fly around buildings, around and around, exhausting their senses, until they are weary in mind and body. In a sense, a city is the worst place to be. My pokémon will be most happy in between cities. I have some plans to keep them at bay and to keep them satisfied at all times, but I'll see how they do on their own to begin with. Pokéballs may or may not be part of this.

Oh, have you ever wondered just how many pokéballs are used in a single day? Imagine all the pokémon that are already caught and tamed, and imagine all the times a trainer releases them: to eat, to battle, to bathe, to play, to train, and then a pokéball is again used when it is time to sleep. This doesn't even count the pokéballs that are used to catch wild pokémon! Broken pokéballs and successful pokéballs should all be taken into account. It's a crazy thought, but not as crazy as the sundial. I just think of strange things sometimes. People call me naïve and young. I am young, and maybe I'm naïve, but that's not something a person calls themselves. I prefer to call myself curious. Naturally, my parents disagree, and they're still against me leaving. They know they can't stop me, but they try.

I know that this is what I need to do. I don't think anyone who isn't primarily destined to be a pokémon trainer should go on a journey. If people are destined to be something else—a carpenter or a nurse or a gardener—then I think they should do that. Traveling is fine, but to make pokémon training your sole goal when it's not your calling seems absurd. So much potential goes to waste that way. The world loses something great every time someone chooses to be a pokémon trainer over something else. A person who is destined to be a pokémon trainer is flexible, intelligent, dedicated, and strong mentally and physically. I'd like to think I am all of the above… but what if I'm wrong? Seventy percent of new trainers never make it to the pokémon league. Ninety percent of pokémon trainers never collect more than seven badges. My goal is not the pokémon league or to collect all the badges, but I am still going to be a pokémon trainer in the sense that I will raise my pokémon the best that I can and show them the world. I don't want to be one of those trainers that makes it halfway and then turns around. What about you? Were you ever a pokémon trainer? Why don't you tell me about your pokémon? Sometimes I get tired of talking about myself. I need some encouragement, I guess. Help me out?

Sincerely,
Haley

xxx

May 17

To Haley,

If you still wish to talk to me, then there's nothing I will do to try to convince you otherwise, and I will stick to my word when I say I will write you back. I too have been to Anistar City, many years ago. Maybe I was one of those people you saw and stared at as a baby. Who knew that our lives could change to such a degree? It seems odd to think about, and I try not to dwell on it too much. And, as per your request, I will not lose your letters. We will discuss your second request, the one about meeting me, when the time comes. Part of me believes you will eventually choose to steer away from Laverre City. Your notions on pokémon training, however, seem strong, and I don't doubt that you will journey to your heart's content.

As for other things, you want to know about my own pokémon, you say? The mistake there is that you assume that pokémon are a big part of my life! Well, you'll probably ask yourself, "Doesn't everyone's life revolve around pokémon in some way or another?" And I'll tell you that's true so that you don't have to wait for my answer in another letter. My life indeed revolved around pokémon once upon a time. As I said, I was a drug addict once, and that was when I was interested in pokémon—not the pokémon themselves, anyway, but what the pokémon could offer me. I guess I can explain.

I'm sure you've heard about Professor Sycamore. If you haven't, don't bother starting your journey just yet. I mean it. That means you should also have heard about the three mainstream starters: fennekin (the fire-type), froakie (the water-type) and chespin (the grass-type). Oh, how my heart glowed incessantly the night before I got to choose my first pokémon. It lit up the whole sky, but I doubt you were alive to see it. It might as well have been a phenomenon as rare as Halley's Comet. I was rolling and rolling around in my head, I couldn't stop thinking, "Which one would I choose?" Such is the biggest concern of a nine-year-old on the eve of his birthday. They all had such strength , such beauty, so much so that my brain couldn't comprehend only having to pick one.
I'll stop here to point this out: my parents, unlike yours, didn't mind if I went on a journey that young. In fact, they told me stories and tales, as if they were trying to encourage me. I would tell you these stories, but I have moved on from them and, considering your age, I am sure you have, too. Anyway, thinking I was superior, I took advantage of their carelessness while I could.

When I walked into Professor Sycamore's lab, I still hadn't made my decision. I blatantly asked him, "Can't I just have them all?" I was the only child picking that day, after all. How lucky for me, to be the only one in Lumiose City with a birthday on July 10, and to have it during a time where school wasn't in session. Of course, Professor Sycamore said no, he needed the other two for two other trainers. He might have been expecting me to whine, but instead I asked how much time I had until the next trainer's birthday. I had one week.

I won't bore you with details. Details are unnecessary, mind-boggling facts that drown the main points you need to know. I ended up with all three starters. Did I steal them? Did I threaten Professor Sycamore? I'd like to tell you, but the obvious difference between dreams and reality doesn't exist for me. For all I know, what I have told you thus far could be entirely untrue. I only told you what every trainer goes through, and assumed I was the same. I hope you felt that that part of the story related to you in some way, though the story of your first pokémon was a bit unordinary.

Have I gotten off track here? But I must tell you that those three starters… Well, how happy they were to not be separated! They grew together, learned together, and they taught me many things. I don't remember the police coming after us, which makes me think Professor Sycamore was scared to death to report me. It is of no concern to me now. What I noticed most was this: while the pokémon were extremely close to each other, they were disconnected from me. I had them for about four years and I never learned to understand their language. They did not talk to me unless I spoke to them first. There's been research done about this, research about how a pokémon feels like an alien amongst his own trainer because his trainer doesn't consider his or her special needs. I remember the fennekin being a bit of a nervous wreck. It probably needed help, but what did I know? And the froakie was prone to injury in battle, but I never had supplies on hand. The chespin was the most peculiar of them all, and I will get into that in a minute. They must have felt like they didn't belong anywhere. They had to accommodate themselves to my kind of life, the kind of life that forces you to survive on your own without the help of others. It should come as no surprise to you that when a young pokémon's needs are not met, it results in a lack of development physically, mentally, and socially. Perhaps this is why they died so early, but there may have been other factors, too.

Do you believe in demonology? I've jumped the gun again. Do you know what demonology is? Those who believe in demonology are under the impression that everything that happens in life is controlled by a spirit. If we go by this definition, then it makes sense that any criminal who commits a crime is being controlled by a spirit at the time of the crime, and therefore can plead insanity and have this explanation be accepted—unless, of course, the judge wishes to go against his own beliefs. I'd like to believe in this demonology. I'd like to believe that my parents didn't care not by their own free will, but because something was preventing them from doing so. I'd like to believe I was a bad trainer because I wasn't meant to be, and I'd like to think that what happened to my three starters wasn't my fault.

I didn't think it was my fault for a long time. It took long enough just for to realize they were gone. One day a sudden gap in my heart appeared when I threw a pokéball out on the battlefield and realized how the creature that popped out wasn't moving. The other trainer shrieked and fled away on his gogoat as fast as he could. Decayed and immediately attracting bugs, I wondered how long ago this had happened, and how. I fell on my back and fell asleep, unable to process what had just occurred.
The chespin's death hit me the most. As I said, he was a peculiar one. This pokémon had a tendency to ram into anything it was angry at. Sometimes he bashed his head on trees, sometimes onto buildings, sometimes he spilled his food just to have an excuse to trample on it. Mostly, though, he had a knack for targeting the front of my knee and causing it to dislocate. I couldn't believe it every time it happened, and I was never prepared for it. I was only in pain for a split second, after all, before my knee socket popped right back into place. It was never a hospital matter. At any rate, the chespin seemed to be telling me something, but I could never figure out what, I only sent him out in more battles so he could use his anger in a more productive setting. It never worked. Once, he even hit me in the head, and I felt so disoriented that I thought the chespin had grown to human size, and that he suddenly possessed a human voice that was telling me, "I've known you in the past." It seemed to be a reminder to recollect all of my past lives as a human alone, and all the chespin's past lives, some of them portraying him as a human and others as a pokémon of varying types. It seemed that I had met him in each life, and that during each encounter he tried very hard to ruin me in some way or another. I never quite placed his story. When I had come to, he was just a normal creature with a crazy grin on his face.

I didn't have another pokémon for a long time. I stayed in Laverre City, living on the streets and digging in the garbage for food. One day someone came up to me and blatantly offered drugs. I had been given offers from prostitutes and the police before, but this sounded vaguely appealing. They explained to me that drugs could make the pain go away. Drugs could take you into another world. How could I say no? And now that I think about it, perhaps this is where my exaggeration comes from. Rather than from my parents, maybe the drugs messed up the inner workings of my mind so much that I cannot remember anything except what I want to believe is real.

Similar to how it costs money to go on a journey, I needed money to get drugs. The man who offered me drugs the first time was just looking for a buddy to share with. I don't remember the details of what happened, but it was appealing enough for me to continue. Still, I needed money. This is when I got back into pokémon. I traveled back to Lumiose City without any pokéballs. I didn't catch pokémon, per se. I called it "charming" pokémon. I did lots of things to charm them. I pretended to be hurt so that whatever pokémon came to help me grew attached to me instantly. I offered human food to any pokémon that was interested. I told sad stories of my life, knowing they could understand me by the tears in their eyes and the cuddling sessions that followed. Once, I even came across a family that was living in the swamps. It was nearing winter and they wanted enough meat to last them a while so they wouldn't have to travel in the harsh rain. I offered to help. I befriended a manectric and asked him to fight a bouffalant to the death. He was as loyal as a pokémon could be. When I brought the bouffalant back to the family, they claimed it was too thin and there would never be enough meat for the whole family. "How could you do this to us? You promised us lots of meat," they said. But I could see through their charade. To complain was their way of trying to be humble and their way of accepting gifts. They bought the bouffalant from me anyway and then offered even more for the manectric, who could hunt for them. I agreed.

After the three starters, there was only one pokémon I kept. I found him in a dark alleyway in Lumiose City, shortly after he was born. This pokémon intrigued me immensely because of both its worth and its potential personality. He was a zorua. I even went to the trouble to name him, unlike my three starters. His name was Enmity, and, given the stereotypes that surround his species, I was expecting him to live up to that name. Oh, the mischief we could get into! Oh, the amount of money he could earn me with all the tricks up his sleeve! I even used a master ball I had bought off of the black market in case I ran into such a gold mine. Unfortunately, Enmity wasn't like a normal zorua. He wasn't hostile toward humans nor did he wish to cause them any harm or ruckus. He was quiet and shy, always wanting to hide behind a tree or behind my legs when anyone walked by. And you must understand another thing: Enmity was a mute. I never heard him speak a word. I never heard even the smallest of grunts. I wanted to release him, but I didn't want to waste the master ball I had bought. Instead, after I had developed somewhat of a relationship with him, I taught him to do tricks. I thought people would want to see a very rare pokémon perform for them on the streets, and I thought I could put a bucket out in front of us for anyone who wanted to donate money. He didn't bring in enough for the drugs, but it was better than nothing. Oh, and, before you ask—I have no idea where he is now. He was with me when I was arrested, and I haven't seen him since.

Hmm. I've seen the sun three times since I've started writing this letter. I think that makes it Wednesday. That's a long time to be writing, but I had to think long and hard about what happened. I could write one letter per day, one for every pokémon I sold, but then you would probably start to think I forgot about you.

Sincerely,
Mark