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One Day (G)

Discussion in 'Completed Fics' started by Breezy, Jun 12, 2009.

  1. Breezy

    Breezy Well-Known Member

    I've been feeling really sad lately. Meh. Don't know ... It's just ... I guess I'm kind of lonely. I'm not alone, though, which is the funny thing. Past the door and sprawled across a bed is a boy. My boy.

    He's an interesting one. Behind the closed door, each and every night, he would pace across the floor in his socks, making sweeping noises across the polished wood planks, the floor groaning underneath his weight. I can hear him down the hall, walking back and forth, the soft sweeping, the loud creaks, and it makes me wonder what exactly he's doing. Then I press my head against the wood door, and I hear him muttering. Sometimes it's about nothing. Sometimes it's something important. But mostly, if not all the time, it has to do with pokémon. It makes me smile.

    It's nine thirty in the morning. I've been up since six. Just sitting here, thinking. So much tension I've built up ... It's like it's my first day all over again. I should wake him up; I don't want him to panic and rush. I warned him that once he starts traveling, he has to wake up all on his own. As always, he responds with an eye roll. I don't mind it as much anymore or maybe I do and I just don't do anything about it. So futile, and I know he doesn't mean it most of the time anyway. Ten year olds were never really good with responses. Eh. He'll be fine.

    He knows I care. I can't help but wonder, though.

    “Five more minutes,” he grumbles, tossing in his bed and throwing the sheets over his face. They're blue and cotton and decorated with water pokémon. Just recently he asked if he could change his bedsheets into something more plain, something not so ... childish. I told him just to wait it out and that he'll be out of the house soon enough, and it won't matter anyway. I think I said that because I'd hate to see something of his – of his childhood – thrown out. I want to hold onto it. It's silly of me, I know.

    “Well, hurry up. Your breakfast is going to get soggy.” The door lets out a loud groan as I close it behind me. Appropriate.

    The kitchen table seems so far away, and the hallway so long, so dark, so dusty. His boyhood is revealed to me in pictures that hang on the walls in silver frames. Sleeping baby. Clumsy toddler. Wild child. Ah, one of the frames is crooked. It's the picture of him in his little school uniform during his first day of pokémon trainer school. He looks annoyed. Then again, I'm ruffling his hair in that picture.

    Coffee sounds good right now. I always enjoyed watching the steam swirl lazily about. Not that I really need it – er, the coffee, I mean. I'm pretty awake as it is. It gives me something to do ... Well, something to stare at, anyway.

    “Mom?”

    I'm not sure how much time has passed or how I didn't notice my finger circling the rim of my coffee mug. Either way, I shake my head and look up, staring at the boy across the table.

    Of course; messy.

    “I iron clothes for you for a reason, you know.”

    “Aw, Mom!” he whines, defensively grabbing at his wrinkled t-shirt. It's black with the design of a pokéball etched in white in the center. “Those don't look comfortable to travel in!”

    “Well, at least change your jeans.” They're full of holes and frayed at the end; they won't survive more than a month. “You're going to be on the road for months, you know. Buying new clothes should be one of the things you shouldn't need to worry about.”

    He rolls his eyes. He always was stubborn. “I know, Mom.”

    I can't help but stare at him. Staring always works.

    Knew it. He gives in. “Fine.” His stomps echo as he retreats back to his room. Seconds later, he stomps back, a crisper but stiffer pair of jeans on. “Better?”

    I smile. “Much. Now eat.”

    The chair scrapes against the wood floor as he plops himself in the chair and grabs at the fork, shoveling scrambled eggs into his mouth, barely chewing. His fingers – fingernails embedded with a thick layer of dirt, of course – wrap themselves around the cool glass of orange juice, and he gulps that down as well, letting out a deep gasp as soon as he finished. Disgusting ... Charming, though.

    He rips the corner of his toast and chomps that down before asking, “What time is it?” with crumbs spilling out of his mouth.

    I already know, but I look at the clock anyway. The minute hand slowly creeps it hand toward the eleven. “Five minutes 'til ten. You still have time. Slow it down.”

    He obliges, the devouring of his buttered toast much slower but still messy. My hands wrap themselves around the coffee mug, palms pressing themselves against the heated ceramic, fingers lacing together and brushing past bony knuckles. Hesitantly, I lift the mug to my parted lips and take a drink, making sure not to take my eyes off him. I'm not sure why; it's not like he'll disappear on the spot if I do. He'll be fine.

    “Finished!” he cries triumphantly, scooting back in his chair, the legs groaning in protest. His hands rest firmly on the table and he leans his weight on them, his head thrusting forward, cool eyes narrowed. “Can I go now? The professor is sure to give away all the pokémon by now!”

    “Relax.” Why are my legs so shaky? Was I talking to myself or to him? “Do you have everything in your bag?”

    He shifts his arm, shaking off one of the straps and swinging the bulk of the bag forward, zipping it open. “Potions, empty pokéballs, money, badge case–”

    “Underwear?”

    He glares at me, flustered. “Yes, Mom.” He zips it back up, swinging it around to his back. “Can I go now?”

    “Ah, so much in a hurry. Fine.” I'm not sure how I'm still able to stand, let alone walk to the front door, my boy bouncing toward it. His hands grasp around the brass knob, rattling it before swinging the heavy door open. The chirps of pidgey greet us, and rays of sunlight tentatively pass through the threshold and reflect off the polished floor to the wall. It smells fresh and wet, and it tingles my nostrils.

    I'm not sure how long we're going to stand here, me and my boy. I can tell he feels awkward, wanting to go to the laboratory but not wanting to just ditch his poor mama on the step. I drink in his appearance as he shifts his weight between his legs. Brown hair, brown eyes, a little on the short side, but he'll hit a growth spurt soon enough. There's a thin scar on his chin from when he banged himself up pretty bad while playing outside one day.

    I break the sound of chirping birds. “Don't forget to call at least once a week.”

    Eye roll before looking up at me. “Mom, you remind me everyday. I will.”

    He'll forget.

    I ruffle his hair, immediately causing him to throw his hands above his head in disdain. “Don't miss me too much, you brat.”

    “Mommm!” he whines, flattening his hair with flat palms and spread fingers. “You'll mess up my hair!”

    It'll get messy in five minutes with or without my help.

    “Now, Professor Elm's laboratory is just down the road. It's a bit of a walk, but you can't miss it.”

    “I know, Mom.”

    “Make sure you treat your pokémon nicely, okay? Love it and care for it.”

    “I know, Mom.”

    “I'm proud of you.”

    He doesn't say anything for a bit. “I know, Mom ...”

    “Good.” His arms wrap around me, and I hug him back. All my jitters, all my fears, seem to flow out of my fingertips and into the open air in that hug, even if it's only for a few seconds. He's warm. I think his jitters have gone away for a bit, too, in that hug.

    I'm surprised I'm able to pull away, holding onto his arms and staring into his eyes. “All right. Now go. Call me as soon as you get your pokémon.” I hesitantly release him from my grip. He'll be fine.

    He nods, his hand wrapping around his backpack strap as he jumps off the concrete step toward the dusty ground. “Bye, Mom! I'll call you soon!”

    He'll forget, I bet. That's okay. He'll be fine.

    I watch him run down the dirt path toward New Bark as I lean against the wooden door frame, arms crossed, and a small smile on my face. His form becomes smaller and smaller until there's nothing left. Leaves fly across the rocky surface in the warm breeze, scattering and scratching the ground before being picked up again in the wind, waving and twisting before falling again. A pidgey chirps, followed by another. Another one chirps a little farther away. It's quickly returned with the pidgey closer to me. I like pidgey. I like birds in general. They always seem to keep contact regardless of distance.

    They tell me that they grow up so fast. It's a little cliché. Unfortunately, it's true. Actually, I'm not sure if it's unfortunate. I'm proud of myself. I raised a good boy. He'll be fine.

    I think I'll just stand here. Only for a bit, though.

    He'll be fine. I know it. And I'll be fine, too.

    One day he'll thank me. And I'll be glad.
     
    Last edited: Jun 13, 2009
  2. Yami Ryu

    Yami Ryu Well-Known Member

    This was a very pleasent and refreshing oneshot to read Breezy, very original, unique and a lovely show of a mother's perspective of sending her son to go get his first pokemon. Alot different, and far more realistic than anything in the games or how Ash got punted out into the world.

    I give it 5 pimp hats. And a Soda.
     
  3. TurtwigFan1

    TurtwigFan1 burning it down

    As soon as I saw the author, I knew it'd be good. But wow! That was really beautiful and heartwarming. A more realistic approach to the day a child begins their journey and also a much more sincere one. Good work!
     
  4. Aura Master

    Aura Master Smell of Success

    Wow, this is amazing. You can write comedy and write beautiful.

    You've shown me a different way of writing,

    Thank you.
     
  5. Semreth

    Semreth Active Member

    This is amazing, an excellent portrayal of the first day of a journey but from the mother's perspective. Nicely done, Breezy, the writing was really beautiful.

    That is my favourite paragraph of the story. To me it is hinting at how quickly children grow up, especially when they leave home so early in their lives, and I like the way that the child is shown to age over the course of a handful of photographs. Anyways, good job :)
     
  6. BynineB

    BynineB Wielding Übersaw.

    The thing that really got me was that I thought it wasn't actually inside the Pokemon universe; I thought it was a boy that played Pokemon. Really, beautiful writing, and I can't see anything but the most nitpickyish sorts of problems.
     
  7. Breezy

    Breezy Well-Known Member

    I didn't want to post an author note with the story as I wanted the reader to jump straight into the mind of the mother, so I'll address my questions here.

    I think my primary concern with this piece was whether or not the style was too choppy with all the "I's" in there. And if so, was it too bothersome or is it fine as it is?

    Another was if the description was too blunt and stuck out too much for a first person. I tried to keep description limited since I doubt the mother would be observing everything and anything, but I know I had stuff in the story like "heated ceramic" and it made me wonder if that's a little ... odd to hear coming from the mother.

    So if anyone could answer these for me, it'd be much appreciated.

    Anyway, reviews. D:

    What I tell you 'bout sittin' there with your pimphat?

    Nah, I kid. Thanks for the review, Yami.

    K, maybe I not kid.

    You're welcome, Kiyohime. ^^ I'm not sure what you're thanking me for, but you're welcome. :p

    Thanks, turtwigfan. =)

    Er, thanks, I think. Lol.

    I'm glad you liked it, Semreth. That was one of the paragraphs I added last minute, so I'm glad you enjoy that particular bit.

    I don't think I understand your review lol. How exactly did you think it was a boy playing pokemon instead of a boy in the actual pokemon universe? o_O

    And pick out my errors if you do know where they are, even if they are small ones. :p

    Thanks for reading!
     
  8. BynineB

    BynineB Wielding Übersaw.

    You can't actually tell either way until he specifically says "The professor is sure to give away all the pokémon by now!”
    *shrug* Maybe I'm missing something.
     
  9. Breezy

    Breezy Well-Known Member

    I don't know. Why would the mother being have an inner monologue if her kid was just playing a game? >_>

    That being said, it mentions nothing about him playing a pokemon game either, and even if you didn't know the kid was going on a pokemon journey, it's pretty obvious the mom is in distress over the kid at least leaving for something. So I'm not sure how or where you got that game concept from.
     
  10. Bay

    Bay YEAHHHHHHH

    Like everyone else, this is quite a one shot you have there. :) Yeah, our journeys would have never happen without our mamas. XD In all seriousness though, this brings in a new perspective in the Pokemon world. You don’t see too many fics featuring the perspective of a trainer’s mom. Yeah, I love those kind of fics, hehe. There is actually this one shot by Negrek in which a trainer’s first day is from a Professor’s perspective, and this story reminds me a bit of that as the Professor also mentions about the trainer might forget to do this and such.

    Speaking of the trainer going to forget this and that, that is pretty much what I love most about the one shot. Despite the mother knowing that her son will forget to call and such, she’s not all that mad about it and willing to accept that happens and part of everyday life.

    As for your concern over the writing style, to tell the truth, there were a couple places that seem repetitive and the description a bit too much.

    There were a few times you have her pause like that. I know that you’re trying to bring in the mother’s emotions over her son leaving (which I think you did great, by the way), but I feel the emotions are getting a bit passive whenever you go for the ellipsis effect. Yeah, I understand this is more of a character driven one shot and not an action pack one where too many pauses slows the action down. On the other hand, pauses like that will make it seem you’re trying too hard to make every thought dramatic and such. Don’t worry though, you didn’t do too much of that.

    This part is a bit of a sorethumb to me cause when I stare at mugs and such, I don’t think adjectives like ceramic or mahogany. ^^; Yeah, the thing with description sometimes is I try to avoid to describe tables and such if they’re not very important, even not mentioning one word how the table looks like.

    The bolded parts seemed a bit too choppy to me, especially with them a couple paragraphs together.

    Really though, for the most part I thought the writing style you went for is nicely done and shows a lot of the mother’s character. True, there are a couple mentions on parts that I feel are too formal, but it’s more of my opinion, so you don’t have to worry too much. That, and sometimes first person can be very tricky and I actually think you did better with it than me. XD

    Once again, love this one shot a lot. You should be proud. :)
     
    Last edited: Jun 13, 2009
  11. Breezy

    Breezy Well-Known Member

    Thanks for the review, Bay. =)

    I actually agree with you; I think I did overdo it with the ellipses. Lol. I'll make that a bit less ... uh ... ellipsy. Or whatever. :p
    Eek, now that I read it over, it bugs me. X3 Now that you mention it, I don't really think about what the item is made out either. I'll take out those adjectives, so thanks for pointing that out.

    I'll fix up that bit, too. Not sure why, but simply putting "eye roll" at one in the morning sounded like a good idea. o_O Now I see I'm kind of piling on the choppy sentences for really no reason.

    I'm glad you enjoyed it. =) I was a little worried that I would sound naive writing this piece since I'm not a mother (heh lol). I think this was one of my most challenging (or at least emotional) pieces but it made me feel a whole lot better about being out on my own. I didn't realize how homesick I was 'til I wrote this. o_O

    Whee ramblinggg. Wheeeee.
     
    Last edited: Jun 13, 2009
  12. Sike Saner

    Sike Saner Peace to the Mountain

    That was really nice. ^^ I found reading about a trainer's first day from a parent's perspective to be neat and refreshing, and I thought that the narrator's perspective and thoughts really did seem authentically "mom-ish" somehow. For that matter, I also thought that the kid seemed authentically "kid-ish".

    There was one bit in there that I particularly liked, and that would be this:

    XD Nice. I think it's that last line there in particular that makes that part so priceless.


    So yeah, nicely done. ^^
     
  13. Llama_Guy

    Llama_Guy Awesomely awesome

    Quite beautiful-- no, extremely beautifully written. If I had more than two thumbs, they'd all point up!

    A bit, maybe at times. Not that I can point to outstanding examples, though =/ But it could be natural, depending on the mother's character.

    Anyway, awesome oneshot! No real problems as far as I saw, realistically written (she seemed very, uh, motherly. Which is good since she's, you know, a mother and all).

    And did I mention it was beautiful? =D
     

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