Memories (PG)

[Shymain]

Memories (PG) (One-Shot)

Rated PG for dark topics.

Before I start, I must explain that this is a story from a Growlithe's point of view. The italics are thoughts in the past, and normal text is thought in the present.

Memories​

Life is a fragile thing, a glass jar on the edge of a shelf, a painstakingly spun cocoon. But life is nothing by itself, just an empty jar, a vacated cocoon.


I run as fast as I can. My heart is pounding like a drum. I run, shouting for help, looking around to find a way to dodge him. Not him, but it.The ball. My four legs are propelling me as fast as possible. Everything is blurring together- the trees, the water hole, the dim dawn, the caves, and who-knows what that hides inside them, absolutely everything. My once-beloved forest is now a prison, the trees surrounding me, preventing me from escaping. I breathe fast- in, out, in, out, running, running, I need to get away. Pleading with Arceus to spare me this fate, I dash through the forest fearfully. I'm running as fast as I can- what's that? That's the- the ball! Help me!


Life is so short, and when you live, you aren't free. This world, like the forest, is a death trap. Running from danger constantly, but never escaping. This world is not a world of freedom, nor is any world. You are always a slave to something.


I am in the tiny orb, but now it doesn't feel so tiny. I am trapped once again, held within the translucent sphere. This is my life, my reality, my existence. This ball is my world. I do not exist outside of it. In here, no-one can see me, feel me, hear me. No-one can hear me scream. You see? I am screaming, emptying my lungs of my fear, my anger, my sadness. But still, I am alone. No-one knows who I am, knows anything about me. I am a no-one in this world. I can see the light, but even the light can't see me. You don't know what it's like, curled up in this ball, shivering, desolate in this existence. Do I exist? I don't know. I can't feel anything at all. Am I dead? Or is it just me and my thoughts that are alive?


Existence is not real. Life is an illusion. Everything is a lie, and nothing in this world is constant. This life is not desirable, but something to be despised. This life is a painting. Nothing in it is real, just an image.


It's getting brighter. Is this the end? Is it finally ending? No, it's not. But- I'm out of the orb! I- am I free? As I turn around, I see him. The end of all hope. He is a young man, with brown wavy hair. He blinks his deathly cold, blue, eyes. This- this person is my master, the hated one, the one who enslaved me. He is not good, but the bane of my life. To him this is exciting, I think from the smile on his face. All I feel, though, is hatred. Oh, how I long to take my fangs to him, to rip his skin from his bones, to make him feel forsaken, to make him hurt, hurt as I have, and to have him in never-ending agony. The boy says something in his despicable language, and a taller human, a female, comes. They converse, and the anger wells up inside of me. I release it in a roar, putting my whole essence into the disturbance of the peace. The boy is shocked, standing dead still, and the woman is shouting at me, using those foreign sounds. All of a sudden, I am back in the ball. I will never be free.


Life is desolate, hopeless, forsaken. It is worth nothing, not worth the effort of living, not worth time, worthless. Life is the end of real life.


I am out of the ball once more, but this time, other species surround the boy. A blue mouse with a small ball on the end of its crooked tail, a Marill, a little mole with purple and brown stripes, a Drilbur, and, on the boy's shoulder, a Starly. This time the boy says something to me, cautiously, in the weird language that he speaks. Slowly his hand moves closer to me. I tense up, ready to pounce, destroy, devour- but something stops me. Somehow, I am being rational. I am in control of myself, and I know the worst thing I could do would be to attack him with the others around. Yes, I should rather wait for the prime opportunity, when no-one else is around, so that I can utterly destroy him. I let him touch me, and he hesitantly starts stroking my reddish-orange fur. I am silent the whole time.

Life is full of threats, opportunities, hate, evil and death. Life is abominable, the worst part of existence. Life is full of cruelty, hate and disaster.

He trusts me now. He snatched me away from what was my life, destroyed what I hold dear, keeps me in the despised ball, and yet, he trusts me. Why would he trust me? He doesn't know what's coming for him, what's going to destroy him. He doesn't know that when the flames rise, we will both be ended. It's so easy to escape from this world, and this is how.

Life is destructive, spiteful, and lonely. No-one can enjoy life. Now, I'm glad I'm dying.

I blow flames on the wooden house surrounding me, and it lights on fire. In a short time, I hear screams, otherworldly bellows of pain, knowing that their time is over, not accepting it, trying to stay alive. They are fighting against nature, but to no avail.




Life is empty, made up of nothing- nothing but memories.


Life is a fragile thing, a glass jar on the edge of a shelf, a painstakingly spun cocoon. But life is nothing by itself, just an empty jar, a vacated cocoon. Life is so short, and when you live, you aren't free. This world, like the forest, is a death trap. Running from danger constantly, but never escaping. This world is not a world of freedom, nor is any world. You are always a slave to something. Existence is not real. Life is an illusion. Everything is a lie, and nothing in this world is constant. This life is not desirable, but something to be despised. This life is a painting. Nothing in it is real, just an image. Life is desolate, hopeless, forsaken. It is worth nothing, not worth the effort of living, not worth time, worthless. Life is the end of real life. Life is full of threats, opportunities, hate, evil and death. Life is abominable, the worst part of existence. Life is full of cruelty, hate and disaster. Life is destructive, spiteful, and lonely. No-one can enjoy life. Now, I'm glad I'm dying. Life is empty, made up of nothing- nothing but memories.


Goodbye, world.


Goodbye, world.



​

 

[Vernikova]

Chapter 01

Italics are past thoughts and regular font represents current thoughts. Got it.

I don’t really see the difference using a narrative taking place in the past and one in the present used. If you were to take away the italics, I don’t see the story changing much besides reordering the events. While I was reading I got the feeling that what you were trying to tell us is “you can never have a good life because the opportunity stops,” but I don’t get how that can be your point when you first stated that life was beautiful and precious. Specifically, I’m referring to these: “Life is a fragile thing, a glass jar on the edge of a shelf . . . Like a jewel, life is a beautiful and precious” vs “Life is the end of real life.” Along with the second sentence, you constantly state that life is miserable and there’s essentially nothing good about it. Can you explain as to why you think that life can be beautiful even though one never experiences “real life”? Your assertions from the main character's POV don't match up with what it says throughout the story.

Outside of that, it was well written grammatically. As a standalone, this was pretty interesting to read but maybe you can pair this with another story form the POV of the trainer that captured it. It would be good to see this from both ends of the spectrum.

 

[Shymain]

First off, thanks for reviewing.

Chapter 01

Italics are past thoughts and regular font represents current thoughts. Got it.

Umm... Sorry, I might not have been clear enough, this is a one-shot. Sorry bout that!

I don’t really see the difference using a narrative taking place in the past and one in the present used. If you were to take away the italics, I don’t see the story changing much besides reordering the events.

Yeah, I just did that for the end bit. I was sorta... inspired for that bit. So, yeah, it might not make much difference, but to me it does. But good point.

While I was reading I got the feeling that what you were trying to tell us is “you can never have a good life because the opportunity stops,” but I don’t get how that can be your point when you first stated that life was beautiful and precious. Specifically, I’m referring to these: “Life is a fragile thing, a glass jar on the edge of a shelf . . . Like a jewel, life is a beautiful and precious” vs “Life is the end of real life.” Along with the second sentence, you constantly state that life is miserable and there’s essentially nothing good about it. Can you explain as to why you think that life can be beautiful even though one never experiences “real life”? Your assertions from the main character's POV don't match up with what it says throughout the story.

Okay, good point. First off, I actually wasn't trying to make that point. This being the thoughts of the Growlithe, it was supposed to be his thoughts, his ponderings, his end. This was supposed to be the final point that he makes to himself. Life is a fragile thing actually does match up, but, you're right, the jewel bit doesn't. I'll just have to remove that. So, yeah, apart from that, I don't see how this doesn't match up with Growlithe's thoughts throughout the story. If it was only that, then good. But if it was elsewhere, could you clarify?
Thanks!

Outside of that, it was well written grammatically. As a standalone, this was pretty interesting to read but maybe you can pair this with another story form the POV of the trainer that captured it. It would be good to see this from both ends of the spectrum.

Hmm... Interesting idea about the alternate POV. I'll have to think about that. The main problem with that is that I am not really that good at writing upbeat characters who are happy. Thanks for reviewing!

-Shymain

 

[Vernikova]

Umm... Sorry, I might not have been clear enough, this is a one-shot. Sorry bout that!

I know it was. I just add the chapter bit on all of my reviews out of habit.

Okay, good point. First off, I actually wasn't trying to make that point. This being the thoughts of the Growlithe, it was supposed to be his thoughts, his ponderings, his end. This was supposed to be the final point that he makes to himself. Life is a fragile thing actually does match up, but, you're right, the jewel bit doesn't. I'll just have to remove that. So, yeah, apart from that, I don't see how this doesn't match up with Growlithe's thoughts throughout the story. If it was only that, then good. But if it was elsewhere, could you clarify?
Thanks!

Yeah, I probably worded that wrong. I know that it's Growlithe's thoughts but the whether intentional or not it's what the point of the story was. Or at least what you put across. Growlithe thinks life is terrible and continues to repeat it until it finally decided to kill itself and ends up being happy that it gets to leave. I included the life is fragile bit since you wrote (Growlithe thought) that real life ends when life begins but go on to say "No one can enjoy life" and "Life is empty." That there are so many bad things in life but what exactly makes it fragile especially when you compare life to an illusion?

Yes, that was the only part that felt out of sync to me. I felt that everything else was very well done.

 

[Shymain]

I know it was. I just add the chapter bit on all of my reviews out of habit.

Oh, okay. Thanks for the clarification.

Yeah, I probably worded that wrong. I know that it's Growlithe's thoughts but the whether intentional or not it's what the point of the story was. Or at least what you put across. Growlithe thinks life is terrible and continues to repeat it until it finally decided to kill itself and ends up being happy that it gets to leave. I included the life is fragile bit since you wrote (Growlithe thought) that real life ends when life begins but go on to say "No one can enjoy life" and "Life is empty." That there are so many bad things in life but what exactly makes it fragile especially when you compare life to an illusion?

Yeah, that really didn't flow very well, you're right. I was sorta struggling to think of something to put there, which is why it's clumsy. Which is not a good excuse.

Yes, that was the only part that felt out of sync to me. I felt that everything else was very well done.

Okay, thanks!

Just as a matter of interest, is your name based on the crazy guy in Spud? Just been reading that and realized you had the same name...

-Shymain

 

[TheSirPeras]

That was pretty good. The whole concept of it was pretty new to me (this is the first Pokemon POV fic I've read actually), and you made it really interesting. Growlithe's personality was pretty depressing, but you conveyed his emotions towards basically everything well. You could have made it a bit longer, maybe one or two more scenes where he interacts with his trainer, but it was totally up to you and it was still good haha

All in all, I enjoyed reading it, definitely different than what I usually read

 

[Shymain]

That was pretty good. The whole concept of it was pretty new to me (this is the first Pokemon POV fic I've read actually), and you made it really interesting. Growlithe's personality was pretty depressing, but you conveyed his emotions towards basically everything well. You could have made it a bit longer, maybe one or two more scenes where he interacts with his trainer, but it was totally up to you and it was still good haha

All in all, I enjoyed reading it, definitely different than what I usually read

Thanks for your review!

Yeah, I really could have made it a bit longer, you're right about that. I really don't find the idea of having more trainer interaction good, but still, each to his own. Glad this was something new for you, and glad you enjoyed it!

-Shymain