cyndaquil_dratini
Cynda
Okay, here's the new fic I've been planning out and talking about so much in the Authors Cafe. It's an experiment, it's an idea, it's going to go a lot of different ways and be taken a lot of differet ways. it's not written like a normal fic, but I reckon you guys can handle it, after hearing some of the stuff Scrap's been up to. There's a lot that's gonna go on here, and this fic is going to be very opinionated on a range of issues- the idea is that it lets you make an opinion on the subject too. What I'd love to know is that this fic is doing its job and making people think, so I'd love to hear your opinions on what's going on here. Obviously, nothing like that is going to happen in the first chapter- this is a risky chapter, because it starts the fic off so bleaky, but ah well, here goes nothing.
BOY AND BONSLY IS RATED M for violence and adult themes and references to other things later on (sex, drugs, rock and roll, you know the drill.)
Oh, and if you like this fic, have a look at Alexi, my other, more conformist one. Don't give up on it just because it's long please!
Boy and Bonsly
DANIEL
I’m lying in bed, looking up. My mother’s eyes are smiling. Her cheeks crease. She lets me grab her finger with my whole hand and I pull on it, as hard as I can and it doesn’t do a thing to her, she doesn’t feel a thing. I giggle at her, because she’s silly, and put her finger in my mouth. I can feel the canyons and valleys of her knuckles against my soft jaw. She laughs at me and takes her sloppy finger out, patting my head softly.
Door knock. Knock knock on the door. Who will it be? Not daddy, never daddy. He’d been dead for months, but I didn’t understand. Door knock, door knock. Mummy leaves. No! Don’t leave! Don’t leave me! Her face is gone, I can’t see her face anymore, it’s gone to look at the door and who wants to come inside. I cry out for her. Her face comes back. I smile. Cheeks push up, mouth comes undone, I show My Mum the little rows of nothings that’ll grow to teeth in the time it takes them to do it. Mummy’s face has lost its grin, though, her eyes are all concerned and brow down. Another face. Another face. Whoops, up we go, out of the cot, into the air. Tight grip hurts my underarms. There’s mummy’s face! Reach out to mummy. She turns her eyes away. Drip, drip, they go, behind her back. What’s that for, then? Hup! Over a shoulder, looking at mummy’s back now, new hair all in my face. Yucky, new blonde hair, taste salty and bland. Hup, hup, bounce bounce bounce we go, out the door and down the road. My Mum stays still. I wave goodbye. Goodbye, My Mum!
Balancing act to get the car door open, and now I’m in a little seat. The new face, the new person, she buckles me in nice and tight so I don’t fall out. Into the driver’s seat she goes and we’re all ready for our trip. Brummmmm goes the car when the key goes in, and we’re off! Down the bumpy dusty orange road.
I’ve got a good view out the window in my high seat. I turn around, to look at all the sights, there’s my house, going away in the distance. There’s mummy. I can hear her through the glass. She’s screaming, her hands are up in the air, she wants me to come back. Her eyes are dripping out. Drip, drip, big black bad river stains down her cheeks, huge sobs, huge gulps of air. I do a little grunt, turning round in my seat to try and grab hold of mummy. She’s very far away now, but she still holds her arms out too. Can’t reach.
“Uhh!” I say, in a concerned manner.
“That’s right, little Daniel, say bubye to mummy now, wave goodbye little Daniel, that’s the way. There we go. You’ll be safe soon, so don’t you worry.”
So I start to bawl.
---------------------------------
The only morning I remember from living in Orre. I distinctly remember the big old baobab trees. That’s all. Their branches were bobbing in the wind. And the ground was orange, not green like it is now.
I can remember the car. I’d never been in a car before. The upholstery was so soft, compared to anything I’d felt. There was a woollen cover on the seatbelt. I loved the feel of it. I sat in a special seat, higher than the others, because I was too young to fit in the normal seats, and I watched the bouncing branches on the baobab trees out the window.
I can hardly remember my parents at all. Not at all. I can’t remember anything about my father; I am told he was taken. A lot of people got taken in Orre. It was nothing important, nothing unusual. No matter he was my dad, people disappeared all the time, it was selfish of me to spend my time worrying.
I have a new father now.
And what of my mother? There’s nothing there. I don’t remember her. I know she wasn’t taken, I know she looked after me when my father wasn’t there. The taste of metal and water reminds me of her. The warmth of her bosom when she carried me. Sometimes, I catch a smell, and it reminds me of someone I’d never met before and I think maybe it’s her.
My new mother doesn’t think so.
They gave me a Bonsly. I was crying, when they took me home I started crying and I wouldn’t stop and so they took me to a pokemon lab and told me to choose a pokemon. They didn’t know what I was crying for. They took me from my parents and called themselves mum and dad, and put me to sleep in a strange cot and they couldn’t, for the life of them, figure out why I was crying. What do we do? they said to each other. The baby is crying, for God’s sakes, make it stop. Give it a pokemon, kids like pokemon, that’ll make him stop. So they took me to the lab and bought me a pokemon- bought me their piece of mind that I wasn’t unhappy, that I would stop bellowing. Bonsly reminded me of the baobab branches and I pointed him out and so they bought that one for me.
They gave me Bonsly. I stopped crying. He’s all I’ve ever had.
-----------------------------
My name isn’t really Daniel. I don’t know my real name. My mother never told it to me. Maybe she didn’t want me to have that thought in my mind the whole time. That constant thinking ‘This is who I could have been.’ I should be grateful for that. I have a life, and a future, and I should be grateful. I’m not though; I’m just bitter. All that stuffing around with my childhood just made me bitter. All I’m really grateful for now is Bonsly. Just Bonsly. I never gave him a name. How can I name something else, when I don’t know my real name to begin with? Just Bonsly’s fine, it was fine when I was little, it’s fine now.
It was three days till my first day at a new school, and I was in the kitchen with Mum talking to my grandmother. Though she was very upper-class and close-minded, I loved talking to her. I think I felt like she believed in me, thought I was something worthwhile. Dad’s so headstrong, Mum’s so weak. Jen pretends I don’t exist. Grandma’s nice enough for a chat; always honest, if nothing else. Honesty was something I valued highly. It’s odd, looking back at the conversation, considering what my first day at the school would actually be like.
-------------------------
“Say hello to your grandma, Daniel.”
“Hello, Grandma.”
“Gosh, Daniel, I don’t think you’ve grown a bit since I last saw you. Have they been feeding you here?”
“Yes, Grandma, of course we’ve been feeding him. He’ll grow. He’s just taking his time, aren’t you Daniel?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Shy as well as skinny, I see. You’ll have to grow tougher than that if you’re going to survive in this world, my boy.”
“Tell Grandma about what’s happening on Thursday, Daniel. She’d like to here about that.”
“What’s happening on Thursday, Daniel?”
“Daniel?”
“Daniel’s going to school on Thursday, Gran.”
“Oh, it’s about time, too. Home schooling never did any good to anyone, in my opinion. Half of what they teach you at school is in the playground, I’ve always said. You can’t learn that, bottled up indoors all day, nobody else to talk to. You’ll make lots of friends at school.”
He grabs my collar and, choking me, pulls me off the dirt hard and onto my feet. The fabric tears by the time he’s let go.
“Have you got everything all ready then, Daniel? Know what you’re going to wear and so forth?”
He punches me hard in the chest and I double over, winded.
“Yes, Gran, I’ve got everything all sorted out.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. I’m sure you’ll have a marvellous time at school. Barkleigh’s, I assume, like his sister?”
“That’s right. I just couldn’t cope sending him anywhere else. If he’s going to have a school education, it had better be a proper one.”
Someone else grabs my pants and pulls me up by my undies. My legs writhe around, looking for ground, and my eyes bulge with pain. I kick the second person in the shins and they drop me hard. I collapse, and get a kick in the back.
“Yes, Barkleigh’s is a lovely place. Do they still teach you the good old fashioned basics on how to be a trainer there these days?”
The first guy pulls me up off the ground by my hair and then pushes me back into the dirt again, rubbing my face in the pine-bark. I spit dirt out and he takes my arm, forcing it behind my back.
“Oh, Esther dear, you’re getting a little old. Still set in that old pokemon trainer routine? That’s an old path, Grandma, you know hardly anyone treads there any more.”
“But Daniel here wants to be a pokemon trainer; I know it, he’s told me. I think it’s a fine path to tread.”
“Yes, well, we all know where our Graham stands on that one. No, I don’t think Daniel’s going to be a trainer if his parents have anything to do with it- Perhaps something more respectable, like a lawyer, or a doctor.”
I struggle, but my arm is locked. I can’t move, so I lie there and take it. My friend watches from nearby, with all the others who have come to stare.
“I think being a pokemon trainer is perfectly respectable. And he’s already got little Bonsly, so he’s well on his way already.”
The guy on my back pushes my head to the side, and spits in my face. Then he gets off me, and I scramble to my feet.
“Grandma, you know there’s no future for pokemon trainers these days. This is Kanto, not Hoenn, and while in Kanto we shall act like Kantons do. If he wanted to be a trainer, he’d move to Hoenn, wouldn’t you dear?”
“Filthy Orre boy! Go home!” he shouts, and I run. He laughs at me behind my back, calling out to me as I leave. Bonsly follows me, panting along as fast as he can. “Wait for your filthy Orre-animal, Daniel! Little Bonsly can’t keep up!” I can’t even face turning round and waiting for Bonsly to catch up, so he has to run with me, all the way home.
“Yes, Mum.”
I’d never cried so many tears before in my life. I didn’t know what to think. It felt like my eyes had run dry. Mum opened the door when I got home.
“That’s the way dear. You’ll have a lovely time at school, I’m sure.”
“Best day of your life.”
BOY AND BONSLY IS RATED M for violence and adult themes and references to other things later on (sex, drugs, rock and roll, you know the drill.)
Oh, and if you like this fic, have a look at Alexi, my other, more conformist one. Don't give up on it just because it's long please!
Boy and Bonsly
DANIEL
I’m lying in bed, looking up. My mother’s eyes are smiling. Her cheeks crease. She lets me grab her finger with my whole hand and I pull on it, as hard as I can and it doesn’t do a thing to her, she doesn’t feel a thing. I giggle at her, because she’s silly, and put her finger in my mouth. I can feel the canyons and valleys of her knuckles against my soft jaw. She laughs at me and takes her sloppy finger out, patting my head softly.
Door knock. Knock knock on the door. Who will it be? Not daddy, never daddy. He’d been dead for months, but I didn’t understand. Door knock, door knock. Mummy leaves. No! Don’t leave! Don’t leave me! Her face is gone, I can’t see her face anymore, it’s gone to look at the door and who wants to come inside. I cry out for her. Her face comes back. I smile. Cheeks push up, mouth comes undone, I show My Mum the little rows of nothings that’ll grow to teeth in the time it takes them to do it. Mummy’s face has lost its grin, though, her eyes are all concerned and brow down. Another face. Another face. Whoops, up we go, out of the cot, into the air. Tight grip hurts my underarms. There’s mummy’s face! Reach out to mummy. She turns her eyes away. Drip, drip, they go, behind her back. What’s that for, then? Hup! Over a shoulder, looking at mummy’s back now, new hair all in my face. Yucky, new blonde hair, taste salty and bland. Hup, hup, bounce bounce bounce we go, out the door and down the road. My Mum stays still. I wave goodbye. Goodbye, My Mum!
Balancing act to get the car door open, and now I’m in a little seat. The new face, the new person, she buckles me in nice and tight so I don’t fall out. Into the driver’s seat she goes and we’re all ready for our trip. Brummmmm goes the car when the key goes in, and we’re off! Down the bumpy dusty orange road.
I’ve got a good view out the window in my high seat. I turn around, to look at all the sights, there’s my house, going away in the distance. There’s mummy. I can hear her through the glass. She’s screaming, her hands are up in the air, she wants me to come back. Her eyes are dripping out. Drip, drip, big black bad river stains down her cheeks, huge sobs, huge gulps of air. I do a little grunt, turning round in my seat to try and grab hold of mummy. She’s very far away now, but she still holds her arms out too. Can’t reach.
“Uhh!” I say, in a concerned manner.
“That’s right, little Daniel, say bubye to mummy now, wave goodbye little Daniel, that’s the way. There we go. You’ll be safe soon, so don’t you worry.”
So I start to bawl.
---------------------------------
The only morning I remember from living in Orre. I distinctly remember the big old baobab trees. That’s all. Their branches were bobbing in the wind. And the ground was orange, not green like it is now.
I can remember the car. I’d never been in a car before. The upholstery was so soft, compared to anything I’d felt. There was a woollen cover on the seatbelt. I loved the feel of it. I sat in a special seat, higher than the others, because I was too young to fit in the normal seats, and I watched the bouncing branches on the baobab trees out the window.
I can hardly remember my parents at all. Not at all. I can’t remember anything about my father; I am told he was taken. A lot of people got taken in Orre. It was nothing important, nothing unusual. No matter he was my dad, people disappeared all the time, it was selfish of me to spend my time worrying.
I have a new father now.
And what of my mother? There’s nothing there. I don’t remember her. I know she wasn’t taken, I know she looked after me when my father wasn’t there. The taste of metal and water reminds me of her. The warmth of her bosom when she carried me. Sometimes, I catch a smell, and it reminds me of someone I’d never met before and I think maybe it’s her.
My new mother doesn’t think so.
They gave me a Bonsly. I was crying, when they took me home I started crying and I wouldn’t stop and so they took me to a pokemon lab and told me to choose a pokemon. They didn’t know what I was crying for. They took me from my parents and called themselves mum and dad, and put me to sleep in a strange cot and they couldn’t, for the life of them, figure out why I was crying. What do we do? they said to each other. The baby is crying, for God’s sakes, make it stop. Give it a pokemon, kids like pokemon, that’ll make him stop. So they took me to the lab and bought me a pokemon- bought me their piece of mind that I wasn’t unhappy, that I would stop bellowing. Bonsly reminded me of the baobab branches and I pointed him out and so they bought that one for me.
They gave me Bonsly. I stopped crying. He’s all I’ve ever had.
-----------------------------
My name isn’t really Daniel. I don’t know my real name. My mother never told it to me. Maybe she didn’t want me to have that thought in my mind the whole time. That constant thinking ‘This is who I could have been.’ I should be grateful for that. I have a life, and a future, and I should be grateful. I’m not though; I’m just bitter. All that stuffing around with my childhood just made me bitter. All I’m really grateful for now is Bonsly. Just Bonsly. I never gave him a name. How can I name something else, when I don’t know my real name to begin with? Just Bonsly’s fine, it was fine when I was little, it’s fine now.
It was three days till my first day at a new school, and I was in the kitchen with Mum talking to my grandmother. Though she was very upper-class and close-minded, I loved talking to her. I think I felt like she believed in me, thought I was something worthwhile. Dad’s so headstrong, Mum’s so weak. Jen pretends I don’t exist. Grandma’s nice enough for a chat; always honest, if nothing else. Honesty was something I valued highly. It’s odd, looking back at the conversation, considering what my first day at the school would actually be like.
-------------------------
“Say hello to your grandma, Daniel.”
“Hello, Grandma.”
“Gosh, Daniel, I don’t think you’ve grown a bit since I last saw you. Have they been feeding you here?”
“Yes, Grandma, of course we’ve been feeding him. He’ll grow. He’s just taking his time, aren’t you Daniel?”
“Yes, Mum.”
“Shy as well as skinny, I see. You’ll have to grow tougher than that if you’re going to survive in this world, my boy.”
“Tell Grandma about what’s happening on Thursday, Daniel. She’d like to here about that.”
“What’s happening on Thursday, Daniel?”
“Daniel?”
“Daniel’s going to school on Thursday, Gran.”
“Oh, it’s about time, too. Home schooling never did any good to anyone, in my opinion. Half of what they teach you at school is in the playground, I’ve always said. You can’t learn that, bottled up indoors all day, nobody else to talk to. You’ll make lots of friends at school.”
He grabs my collar and, choking me, pulls me off the dirt hard and onto my feet. The fabric tears by the time he’s let go.
“Have you got everything all ready then, Daniel? Know what you’re going to wear and so forth?”
He punches me hard in the chest and I double over, winded.
“Yes, Gran, I’ve got everything all sorted out.”
“Oh, that’s lovely. I’m sure you’ll have a marvellous time at school. Barkleigh’s, I assume, like his sister?”
“That’s right. I just couldn’t cope sending him anywhere else. If he’s going to have a school education, it had better be a proper one.”
Someone else grabs my pants and pulls me up by my undies. My legs writhe around, looking for ground, and my eyes bulge with pain. I kick the second person in the shins and they drop me hard. I collapse, and get a kick in the back.
“Yes, Barkleigh’s is a lovely place. Do they still teach you the good old fashioned basics on how to be a trainer there these days?”
The first guy pulls me up off the ground by my hair and then pushes me back into the dirt again, rubbing my face in the pine-bark. I spit dirt out and he takes my arm, forcing it behind my back.
“Oh, Esther dear, you’re getting a little old. Still set in that old pokemon trainer routine? That’s an old path, Grandma, you know hardly anyone treads there any more.”
“But Daniel here wants to be a pokemon trainer; I know it, he’s told me. I think it’s a fine path to tread.”
“Yes, well, we all know where our Graham stands on that one. No, I don’t think Daniel’s going to be a trainer if his parents have anything to do with it- Perhaps something more respectable, like a lawyer, or a doctor.”
I struggle, but my arm is locked. I can’t move, so I lie there and take it. My friend watches from nearby, with all the others who have come to stare.
“I think being a pokemon trainer is perfectly respectable. And he’s already got little Bonsly, so he’s well on his way already.”
The guy on my back pushes my head to the side, and spits in my face. Then he gets off me, and I scramble to my feet.
“Grandma, you know there’s no future for pokemon trainers these days. This is Kanto, not Hoenn, and while in Kanto we shall act like Kantons do. If he wanted to be a trainer, he’d move to Hoenn, wouldn’t you dear?”
“Filthy Orre boy! Go home!” he shouts, and I run. He laughs at me behind my back, calling out to me as I leave. Bonsly follows me, panting along as fast as he can. “Wait for your filthy Orre-animal, Daniel! Little Bonsly can’t keep up!” I can’t even face turning round and waiting for Bonsly to catch up, so he has to run with me, all the way home.
“Yes, Mum.”
I’d never cried so many tears before in my life. I didn’t know what to think. It felt like my eyes had run dry. Mum opened the door when I got home.
“That’s the way dear. You’ll have a lovely time at school, I’m sure.”
“Best day of your life.”
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