Pokemon Fan Fiction / Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Regret ❯ One-Shot

Legal Stuff: Sakaki and Jiriudan are copyright to Nintendo, GameFreak, CREATURES, 4KidsEntertainment, SoftX, and TVTokyo.

started: 10/?/02 finished: 10/15/02

This story was created by and belongs to ~RacerX~.

For information, comments, etc... contact me ~RacerX~.

RacerX

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Regret

When we are separated from ones we love through the heavy walls of the unknown, the "great beyond", there is first a feeling of great, over powering, sadness. We mourn for our dead, then we feel alone- stranded on a desert island a million miles away from the real world. This is shortly followed by the sticky little emotion called regret. You start to think of the things you should have, could have, said. Things you could have done to possible change the recent turn of events which have torn you in half, and rubbed your bare flesh with lemon and salt. You pin the blame on yourself- even though there was no way to really stop anything. You are helpless. Just like everyone else.

But what if you had said something kinder, what if you had gathered them into your arms and kissed them with what you considered the best sign of affection in the world? What if that had turned everything around, and your loved one was still here today? Can it be done? No, of course not. Because fate plays the same game as irony and destiny; they are so closely related that the lines blur, and they become one for a fleeting moment. It was fate that he died that way. Isn't it ironic that he forgot his medication? Destiny brought his demise about. No matter how you look at it, whatever angle you choose, death is a confusing puzzle nobody will ever figure out, no matter how hard you try.

Back to regret. For a short or long period of time, you blame yourself. You hide behind a fake smile you plaster on your face for the world, then go home and cry until the lines blur again. You become depressed. You become aggressive. You lose pieces of yourself that you can never get back. And who do you blame it all on? Yourself? No, it all drifts back to the fucker who had to go and die. It's THEIR fault you feel this bad, it's THEIR fault your life is a mess, it's THEIR fault you can't stop the sudden flow of memories, it's THEIR fault this damn stain won't come out of my favorite shirt. Amazing how every problem goes to somebody who can't even defend themselves. They're dead. How can they be responsible for the problems you have now?

Well! Because they DIED, of course! If they hadn't gone and DIED, then everything would be just peachy keen. There would be no more problems in my world, why can't you see that?! It's all YOUR fault, you embalmed sack of shit! Why did you have to go now?! Who SAID you could die, and ruin it all for ME?!

Even now, regret. Accompanied by memories. Bitter memories of better times, times when it all wasn't shit. Playing outside under a bright blue sky, a happy puppy, sweet blueberry pie, that first special moment with the one you love most. Thinking of these times makes the pain go away. It's a placebo. And a year later, you've forgotten the whole ordeal; your selective amnesia kicks in, because it just gets boring being depressed all the time, and you tell yourself there's got to be a better way to live. Without giving a damn. So, you forget your loved one. Oh, you remember they're dead- it's one less christmas card to send out- but you forget all the trauma YOU put YOURSELF through.

You go back to not giving a damn. Put your mask back on.

And then it happens again.

Death is inevitable, and as soon as you can accept it, the world will be a better place. But, seeing THAT ever happen is impossible, don't you think? Until I figure out how to shut everything off, I think I'll be content to just wallow in my self pity, the fits of depression, self loathing and all that rot. Just as long as I keep on my mask, so I can hide from the world and all the pain IT inflicts on ME, I think I'll do just fine.Regret.