Wow, I wrote this forever ago.
Attention: They are saying and admitting to things that they normally wouldn't. It's OOC, but everybody's got secrets and is a little different on the inside, no matter how true to yourself you are. Oh, and I'm just going in alpha order by first name. There's not a saving the best for last thing or something like that. Choose whatever age you want them to be. I don't care, anything goes. Your decision. This is where the high rating comes in. If you think they're ten during this, you have one messed up childhood, man.
One last thing. If you review me, PO'd because your favorite character was misrepresented? I'll bite your fucking head off and annoy you to no end under a false name. Not because I'm bashing the character, no, if it was character bashing you'd have the right, but I'm bashing all four at once. I have fallen in love with these characters (yeah, sure, I make fun of them but, whatever, I do that with my friends) and you shouldn't criticize me because I didn't keep your character out of the tragedy. This is not humor. This is not particularly romance. It's just an angsty little fic. Kay?
WARNING: My views are not reflected in this story. I like gay people, okay? I'm not a gay hating evil person. I believe it's in DNA and crud, so don't bash me about that either. 'Fag' is used freely in here, along with lots of other swear words.
"So, by burning your secret tapes, you're letting go. Don't let it weigh you down anymore. That's your problem," Tracey said, looking around at Ash, Misty, Drew and May. "You're all so close together, but still so mistrustful that you can't tell you darkest secrets to. The boys won't keep a diary because it's too girly, and the girls are afraid someone will read it if they do. May has her brother, Misty has her sisters. That's okay, you just need to get rid of everything inside you, like cleaning out a computer with too much stuff on the desktop. You're not deleting it from your history, you're just saving it to the hard drive, where it'll be if you ever need it, but not bothering you every second of every day."
"I want you all to count to three," he instructed, throwing more wood on the bonfire. "And just throw the tapes in. Get rid of them. No one will ever be able to see the things you said, or know whatever it is you did. But if anybody killed someone, please don't keep that a secret." The eyes slowly turned to Misty.
"Why'd you look at me?" Misty glared. "I haven't killed anyone! Damn, you carry around a mallet and everyone thinks you're a mass murderer." But it was a joke, lighthearted. The tension they'd built up that had mounted to fiery hostility in the past few weeks was gone. Now all that was left was destroying the evidence.
"Okay, guys, go," Tracey stepped back. They looked at one another and smiled feeling better already.
"One," they whispered, "two, THREE!" They each threw a tape into the fire, watching them melt away. The first tape to melt away had a name written in bold, electric-yellow marker, followed by one with dark green, then lime green, and finally teal blue. They grinned as their secrets ripped apart.
"Okay, I'm going to tell my secrets to a camera," Ash said, shifting nervously in his chair. He was wearing pajamas, sloppy and loose on him, and obviously a little tired. "I can't believe I'm doing this. Like this is really going to make us all stop fighting. Tracey's such a fag." He snarled.
"I guess I'm supposed to start out small, and then get bigger. Uh, let's see. Small secret…sometimes I play stupid so people won't bother me. Yeah, most of the time I'm dense, but sometimes you can get out of a situation by being an idiot, it's pretty cool, actually. Something else, uh, I masturbate way too much," he laughed nervously. "But I'm sixteen, and half the time the girls I travel with forget they're girls and bend over in front of me and stuff like that. Hard to get it out of your head, y'know?"
"Bigger stuff, I can do this. It's not so hard" he smirked. A blush rose to his face. "Okay, I really don't want to say that out loud. Maybe later. Uh, um. I hit my mom once. A year or two ago. Felt crappy about it afterwards, but, Ho-oh, she was just raving mad because I hadn't call her for a while, and she just kept screaming about how the only time Dad didn't call was when he was in the hospital, dead, and I just lost it." He took a shaky breath. "She hit the wall, hard, and, damn I cried afterward. I lost my temper with a bunch of girlfriends too, beat them. Seems really weird from me, right? But I've been so frustrated, my future's not going anywhere, bad past, and everything I do reminds me of someone else, like my Dad, my mom, or Misty," He groaned and ran his hands through his hair.
"What else? Uh, I went out and got hammered with Gary, once. I was underage, it sucked. I threw up, took off my shirt and pants, woke up naked in a field. Never got drunk again, never going to either. I really hate tequila." He laughed bitterly.
"I'm a horrible person. I am. Let's move on to the other crappy stuff I did. Oh, right. One time, when Misty was unconscious and delirious in a hospital with a fever. I kissed her. I felt her up a little too. That was a bad day. Soft lips though, nice body. I figured out after that that I had a crush on her. May had been unconscious a million times and I never did anything like that to her. In fact it made me feel nauseous to think about. I'm such a perv."
"What other secrets? Uh, made out with a guy once when I fell for "how do you know you're not if you haven't tried' lie. Didn't like it. Guess I'm not gay. There's something to cross off my list. Oh, and I just think I should throw out there that I'm in love with Misty and constantly have sex dreams about her. Great, right? I'm done. Nothing else left in me. I'm a mother beating, drunk, gay bastard perv. Wow, Tracey, you're right, I feel loads better." He scoffed sarcastically, going to turn off the camera. He froze and sat back down. "Wait a minute. I…I do," he blinked. "Uh, wow. I really should go and thank him. I'll add that to my to do list. As well as never beat up mom, get drunk, or feel up a girl without her consent…again."
Ash stood up and held his finger over the button, grinning madly. "I'm not cutting back on the masturbating though," he giggled. He held a finger to his lips as if to tell the camera to keep the secret, and the screen went black.
"Start out small? I don't have any small secrets. Small secrets aren't worth keeping," Drew shrugged, leaning back in his chair casually. He was wearing his usual clothes though snoring could be heard in the background. "I think we're all making these while everyone else is sleeping. When we go to sleep, we're all out. Nothing wakes us up but screaming or pokémon attacks. Why am I not in my pajamas? Because I sleep in my underwear. Pajamas are annoying, and Ash really doesn't care what I sleep in as long as I'm not naked or wearing a speedo or a banana hammock."
"Okay, so let's start out with the obvious one," Drew sighed. "The gay experiment. I bet we've all done it. I'm sure we have. I'm sure Ash has, he'd get tricked into the "just try it" thing for sure. But I'm not asking. And the girls probably get sucked into the whole girls gone wild thing and all that junk. Misty probably feels that since she's still a tomboy she must be a lesbian, since all lesbians are truckers, as shown on TV."
"Ugh, I'm doing it again. Trying to get the embarrassment off of me, and there's no one in the room. I experimented. I frenched a fag, for what seemed like forever. I didn't enjoy it. Guess I'm straight. But I had to test, I mean, everyone thought I was gay. I dressed nice, took care of my hair, and went into contests. I guess I'm just metrosexual, yippee. My life's complete now that I know my sexual orientation."
"I lost my virginity. It was a while back, actually. Some hot chick who was in her twenties, probably college. It was after I won a huge contest. Can't remember most of it. I was drunk. I didn't know they spiked the punch. Remember what she look like naked though, really hot," he rolled his eyes to the ceiling, as if the memories were plastered up there. "Think she gave me head, too. Who knows? At least I know what it's like to get smashed now."
"Uh, I actually told an overly religious family their child hit on me. Innocent mistake actually. I was, like, eleven, and this one kid kept grabbing my package and telling me how sexy I was. He got sent off to church camp to let Jesus enlighten him or something. He must've not liked his savior because he killed himself. I guess he shouldn't have made the choice to be gay," he laughed dryly and shook his head. "Wonder, is it really in your DNA, or do you make the choice? I don't know."
"Damn, I'm screwed up. What else is wrong with me? Oh, May, I looked in on her while she was changing. And in the shower. Saw Misty too, but mostly ignored her except for the awesome dragon tattoo. You know, Earth dragons, the made up things, like whales and elephants and butterflies? Those games are stupid, they just based those animals off of pokémon. Misty should never get rid of that thing. Very hot, with an A-W two T's. May should get one of those."
"Oh, constant sex dreams about May. Misty joined in in a threesome once. Try and beat that pervertedness Brock! Bet I win there!" He said, the false triumph, supposed humor, left a bitter taste on his tongue.
"Of course, the usual teenage stuff, since our generation sucks. Partying, alcohol, make outs, cheatings, I did all that. Tried drugs once. Bored the hell out of me, just sat on a couch and tried to count the teeth in my mouth for an hour. At least when I get drunk I do fun stuff like karaoke. Makes better stories. Probably should learn to say no."
"Well, that's all the shit I've done. I feel a bit better. If anyone sees this video, I'll probably kill myself. Goodbye bad memories!" Drew reached forward, then hesitated. "I'm going to get a tattoo. I don't think that's wrong though. Nothing wrong with tattoos. Probably a rose." He smirked to himself.
"I almost forgot! I'm madly in love with May. I want her to be my girlfriend so bad. She was better at doing it than Misty was, no offense to her." He suddenly cracked up and shook his head. "Fuck, I'm a retard." Drew cackled, then the screen once again clicked off.
"Well, I'm certainly ready to feel worse about myself then I ever had before," May said with false cheerfulness. She sat perfectly straight, hands folded in her chair in a lilac nightgown. "Yeah, let's bring up all the bad things I've done in life to make me feel better about myself. Okay, May, tell the camera all your secrets, tell them how much of a whore you are," she sighed and ran a hand through her hair.
"I'm probably the worst. Ash is probably the best, he's a goody-goody. Well, Misty might be worse than me, I think she might've killed someone. She carries a knife under her pillow, nowadays. I really think she's an assassin or something," May bit her lip and clenched her fists. "I've got to talk about me. Stop putting down my friends just because I want to avoid everything I've done. Everything I wish I hadn't over the past few years. I'm such a wimp."
"Wish I could say I cut myself. Feeling so sad and depressed I'd get a sharp knife and draw slow lines across my arms. Yeah, sure, with maker. Washable, not permanent. I was too much of a wimp. I wondered what it was like. Once I took a paper clip, scratched my arm with it, then drew on it with red marker to simulate blood. I didn't see any big deal, my arm hurt and I had fake blood on my arm. Yay. The next morning I washed it off and drew a scar with my pencil. Didn't look cool. Looked stupid. I took it off."
"Uh, I actually just have low self-esteem. You know, weight conscious and stuff. Shoot! I'm doing it again! It's wasn't weight conscious, I was fricken anorexic, and I knew it. Misty started shoving food down my throat, she yelled at me when it was such a shock to my system to eat so much that I threw up. Started asking if I was bulimic too. I cried. Then she settled down and said that she'd make me eat light food, a little more and more each day. It worked. I can eat cupcakes now and be a fat pig that no one will ever find sexy, incredible." (A/N: Yeah, cliché to have May be anorexic, but I don't care. I'm so angsty I might be British. (don't ask, inside joke, Great Britain rules!))
"When I was younger, I played football with guys," She swallowed. "Yeah, the game was kind of fun. But that's not why I did it. I did it because I liked it when the boys tackled me, and I liked tackling them. Because I'm a stupid, fat, ten dollar whore! Not ten dollar, five dollar," She sneered. "That's all I'm worth. And I need Misty as my pimp to take care of me." She shook her head. "No, not pimp, mother."
"I've gotten as far as third base, haven't had sex or raped anyone," She closed her eyes as a fervent blush crossed her face. "However, I will admit that I molested Drew below the belt, and convinced him it was an accident. I didn't just do it, no, I was so freaking proud of it, I felt like I had won the lottery when I got home. Why? Because I did something wrong! I never do anything wrong!"
"There's another secret, I want to be a bad girl," she stood up on the chair and lifted up her nightgown to flash the camera. "I don't wear a bra or underwear when I sleep. In fact, if I could, I'd sleep naked every single night. And when it'd get hot out, I'd take off the covers, maybe even leave the windows wide open so some guy could see. I want to get changed in front of a window and see some guy's face freeze in shock and delight. I want to get married to Drew and give him his own private strip show with lingerie on our wedding night! I want to get drunk, try drugs, get a tattoo, rob a bank, something that would make people look at me more than once and think 'what a whore' or 'what a bitch'."
She plopped back down. "But I'll never do that, because I'm scared. I'm terrified. I'm a good girl, I'll probably always be a good girl," she sighed. "But I want to do something wild. Not go on adventures, like I did with Ash, but something that's not allowed by society. I don't want to be the hero, I want to be the sexy villain. I want somebody to come up to me and whisper 'bad girls should be spanked' or something like that." She paused, breathing in and out, feeling the rush that came with admitting.
"No, not somebody. I want Drew. That's my biggest secret. In case you're an idiot and couldn't tell, I'm in love with Drew. Do you hear that? Do you hear it you fucking, retarded, bitching, bastard, shithole camera? Everyone may think that May Maple is a sweet and loving gentle girl, but that's not all I am. I'm completely insane, I've got a Girl Gone Wild trapped in me, and she wants to come out real bad," she grinned seductively and blew a sexy kiss at the camera. She hit the button and turned it off.
"My name is Misty Waterflower, and I'm going to tell you right off the bat the thing I'm sure May didn't mention because it never bothered her like it did me," Misty said, sitting in the chair backwards in pajama pants and a T-shirt way too big for her. "May and I made out. Majorly made out. We were wondering what all the sluts and whores and skanks on TV were so hyped up about. I got a bit of a rush from it. It wasn't even as good as Ash holding my hand, but there was something. I guess I'm bi or just a real whore or something, but you know, who cares if I'm happy."
"I'm not happy. My life sucks. People think I'm a murderer. What the fuck? I mean, really, how fucked up do you have to be to think I killed someone! That's my favorite swear word, by the way, fuck. Comedy Central censors it."
"Okay, let's start with my small secret. I can cook if I have a recipe, I just hate it so I screw up on purpose. I'm not Emril, but I can boil water, okay? I like to read lemons on sometimes I replace the names with mine and Ash's. I'm head over heels in love with him, if you didn't know." Misty rubbed her head.
"Insecurities, what have I got? Oh, right, I remember. I'm an ugly tomboy who's probably a lesbian but doesn't realize it, my boobs are so small you need a magnifying glass to see them, I'm too skinny, but if I eat I'm too fat. I'm controlling, sarcastic, and no boy will ever want me. I own May like she's my own little sex slave, in fact the make out thing was my idea. I probably pressured her into it, I can't remember."
"Whenever we run away, I grab Ash's hand so I can get all tingly, not to really save him. I hate myself for being such a bad, uncaring bitch. I cut myself once, wanted to try it. I didn't get that rush of pleasure, I dropped the knife on the ground and screamed 'what the fuck' over and over until I started crying."
"I take more than you're supposed to of medicine. I make sure there's alcohol in my liquid medicine. Drugs were fun. Made me forget. I liked that. Getting drunk was great for that too," Misty nodded. She cracked her knuckles and rolled her head.
"I was raped. That one's important, and I didn't tell anyone. I was left for dead but managed to survive. Found my clothes and crawled back home when it was dark out again. Luckily, my sisters went to another fabulous vacation so I tended to my own wounds. I didn't want anyone to know. Still don't. I've always been the tough one in the group, even when I am a romantic, or act girly. May looks up to me too, but I look up to her. She doesn't have to hide how she feels. She's such a sweetheart," Misty looked away from the camera and out the window.
"I hate being a victim. It was horrible. It's why I sleep with a knife under my pillow. I've been working out too. I think the odds of it happening again are probably lower or something, like lightning never strikes the same place twice. But people have gotten hit by lightning more than once, I read one guy got struck over seven times, fuck, he got hit, like, eleven fucking times. If it ever happens again I just want to be prepared. Knife in one pocket, mace in another. I just want to stay safe," She smiled sadly. "That's why my life sucks, see you later, secrets." She leaned forward and clicked off the screen.
"So, should we just forget all of the crap that happened to us?" Misty said. "Isn't that a bad thing?"
"Okay, if you think you need help with it, you should go to therapy," Tracey shrugged with a laugh. "But none of you are that bad, right?" The four looked at each other shiftily, wondering if they should speak up.
"Um," Ash said sheepishly, raising his hand. "Maybe you should call somebody."
The others, needless to say, agreed.
Okay, I don't care if you liked it or not, that was freaking fun to write! That's why people write angst! Either that or I'm so sadistic that other people's pain delights me too much.
…May's part was the most fun…