Authors Notes- I only wrote this because I was feeling pretty depressed, but I think I kind of like it. It's my first fic (How people hate to see those words), so be nice, but if it was absolutely horrible and you just have to flame, flame away.
Trainers fight, and one Pokemon always wins. But does anyone ever wonder how the Pokemon feels?
"Sparks, use Thundershock!"
No, I don't want to. This…is my friend.
No, I knew this Pokemon in the Lab. I can't… I can't.
Sneering, the other trainer laughed. "If your useless Pokemon won't attack, mine will!" A flash, then-
The Pikachu wondered, as it fell, why this had happened.
It had been a Pichu at first, living happily in the wild until a man in a white coat had caught him in taken him to a building. There, he met another Pichu, and they became friends. Then, one day, he was put on the shelf, nestled up in a Pokeball until a man told it to go with a young boy. The boy had promised friendship, he'd even given him a name, Sparks. The Pichu was overjoyed to have a trainer, a new friend. How wrong it had been. Oh, his trainer was nice at first; always talking to it, and giving it treats. There was the occasional battle, but they weren't very hard. But then, then… It had been a big battle, he knew. His trainer said it didn't matter, whether he won or lost, as long as he did his best. But when he had lost… "You useless Pokemon! I gave you whatever you wanted, and this is how you repay me? Can't even win a battle…" As his trainer turned away, disgusted, Sparks cowered on the ground.
Then, he had tried his best not to lose, not to incur his trainer's wrath. He had done well, and his trainer was friendly again. Then, he had evolved, become a Pikachu. His trainer had said he was proud, and Sparks was happy again. But soon there were more and more battles, some against more powerful Pokemon. Every time he tried his hardest, and somehow he won.
Then, they had met another trainer who asked for a battle. In a flash of light, Sparks was sent out again. He got ready, knowing he wouldn't let his trainer down, when the other trainer released his Pokemon.
"Sparks, Tackle it!" But wait, he knew this one…
Memories of those happy times in the building came flooding back to him, and he almost rushed forward in greeting. But his friend had changed. No longer a Pichu, but a Raichu, powerful and confident. Sparks stopped.
What was wrong?
He had thought they were friends… Then, his trainer ordered an attack. He had tried to explain, tried to say he couldn't, that this was his friend, but all for nothing. His trainer had been relentless, ordering Sparks to attack, but he couldn't, no…
Then, the Raichu had laughed, and said;You fool. Do you really think I won't strike? Pikachu was confused, why did his old friend want to fight? Then, his trainer had begun to shout. "Attack, finish it!" A flare, a sensation of flying through the air, then…his vision fading, he looked upon the Raichu with sadness, and confusion.
Turning to his trainer, he thought he would be recalled, taken to a Pokemon Center, healed. But, no, his trainer was walking away. "I don't need a weak Pokemon like you."
Closing his eyes, he couldn't help but wonder again.
Why? Why was his trainer so cruel, why didn't he like him?
Why was he worthless, why was he being left to die?