Pokemon Fan Fiction ❯ Chaff ❯ Chapter 1
[ P - Pre-Teen ]
By: Raichu 
His home was on fire due to his carelessness. Now he has to pay the price.
Anime/Manga: Pokemon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.24.2009 | Updated On: 10.24.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 573 | Visits: 574 | Status: Completed
His home was on fire due to his carelessness. Now he has to pay the price.
Anime/Manga: Pokemon Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Drama | Type: One Shot | Uploaded On: 10.24.2009 | Updated On: 10.24.2009 | Pages: 1 | Words: 573 | Visits: 574 | Status: Completed
Chaff
He had not loved her with his whole heart.
He woke up suddenly to the sound of an alarm. Sentience awoke gradually. Warmth... no, heat. Smoke. Oh good God... the house was on fire!
He pulled himself together and tried to figure out how this could be. He had been in the living room, reading a book from Gary Oak's library. The log fire had been lit, and he had fallen asleep. Now he had to pay the price of his carelessness.
His Poké Balls, where were they? And Pikachu, he had left him asleep on his bed.
He ran out of the room and made for the stairs. Half-way up, it was evident the fire had already reached upstairs. He ran back down, spent precious seconds to make it to the kitchen, found a tea-towel and soaked it. He would have to breathe through that.
Scared half out of his wits, he pushed through the smoke. His eyes stung. He could barely breathe. His skin could barely stand the heat. He knew he would die if he did not leave pretty quick.
He made is way to the bedroom, kicked in the door, grabbed the unconscious Pikachu off his bed. The smoke was starting to hurt his lungs. He couldn't save his other Pokémon. It was a choice to save Pikachu or risk them all dying. Poké Balls were tough, they had a fighting chance.
He staggered down the steps. Woozy from the smoke, he tripped on the way down. He landed badly. His ankle. The pain was bad. He found the strength to stand.
Flames started to lick the staircase. He felt his leg start burning. He couldn't see. He staggered to the front door, opened it, and went outside.
The fresh air brought relief. He could breathe, he could see. He reached down and smothered the fire on his jeans with his hands. It wasn't as bad as he thought. His sore ankle finally gave way and he collapsed, so he crawled away from the burning building.
Pikachu came to. It looked around and took in what was happening. It grabbed Ash's hands and tried to pull him back to the house.
"Pikachupi," it said, a worried expression on his face.
Then it hit him. The full implication of what he had done dawned on him in an instant and he felt such remorse as he had never done before in his life.
He had only cared about Pokémon. About training. About winning. His goal in life was to be a Pokémon master, and everything that got in his way was chaff.
Misty had come to visit. She had confessed her love to him last night. He told her he'd think about it. She fell asleep in the spare room, the room now engulfed in flames.
Yes, everything that got in the way of his dream was chaff, and now that is was burning, how did it feel? The shame, the guilt. How would he face his friends, their friends?
His dream was over. He knew he would never touch another Poké Ball again. He felt like chaff.
He had not loved her with his whole heart.
He woke up suddenly to the sound of an alarm. Sentience awoke gradually. Warmth... no, heat. Smoke. Oh good God... the house was on fire!
He pulled himself together and tried to figure out how this could be. He had been in the living room, reading a book from Gary Oak's library. The log fire had been lit, and he had fallen asleep. Now he had to pay the price of his carelessness.
His Poké Balls, where were they? And Pikachu, he had left him asleep on his bed.
He ran out of the room and made for the stairs. Half-way up, it was evident the fire had already reached upstairs. He ran back down, spent precious seconds to make it to the kitchen, found a tea-towel and soaked it. He would have to breathe through that.
Scared half out of his wits, he pushed through the smoke. His eyes stung. He could barely breathe. His skin could barely stand the heat. He knew he would die if he did not leave pretty quick.
He made is way to the bedroom, kicked in the door, grabbed the unconscious Pikachu off his bed. The smoke was starting to hurt his lungs. He couldn't save his other Pokémon. It was a choice to save Pikachu or risk them all dying. Poké Balls were tough, they had a fighting chance.
He staggered down the steps. Woozy from the smoke, he tripped on the way down. He landed badly. His ankle. The pain was bad. He found the strength to stand.
Flames started to lick the staircase. He felt his leg start burning. He couldn't see. He staggered to the front door, opened it, and went outside.
The fresh air brought relief. He could breathe, he could see. He reached down and smothered the fire on his jeans with his hands. It wasn't as bad as he thought. His sore ankle finally gave way and he collapsed, so he crawled away from the burning building.
Pikachu came to. It looked around and took in what was happening. It grabbed Ash's hands and tried to pull him back to the house.
"Pikachupi," it said, a worried expression on his face.
Then it hit him. The full implication of what he had done dawned on him in an instant and he felt such remorse as he had never done before in his life.
He had only cared about Pokémon. About training. About winning. His goal in life was to be a Pokémon master, and everything that got in his way was chaff.
Misty had come to visit. She had confessed her love to him last night. He told her he'd think about it. She fell asleep in the spare room, the room now engulfed in flames.
Yes, everything that got in the way of his dream was chaff, and now that is was burning, how did it feel? The shame, the guilt. How would he face his friends, their friends?
His dream was over. He knew he would never touch another Poké Ball again. He felt like chaff.