From: vnausdal
Subject: [PW!] The Beginning, Part I
Date: Saturday, February 26, 2000
Charles was awakened by the sound of the horns on one of the luxury
cruise liners that always seemed to be coming and going in the harbor. He
soon became aware of a smell that seemed familiar to him, but, no matter how
familiar it seemed to him, he couldn't figure out what it was. He tried to
figure out what the smell was while he was getting dressed in his army
fatigues. He finished putting on his pants and began to put on his shoes.
"I know what that smell is," he shouted. He immediatly knew that his
dad was fixing breakfast by the smell of the burning toast.
He finished putting his shoes on and ran down the stairs, eager to get
his adventure started. He walked into the kitchen and found it full of
smoke. At that moment he decided that a bowl of cereal would be safer to
eat than what his dad had fixed. He quickly finished the bowl of cereal and
ran up the stairs and into his bedroom.
As he rushed into his room, he grabbed the backpack off of his bed.
Inside were all the essentials needed for his adventure: a map, a compass, a
sleeping bag, money, his pokédex, and a change of clothes. He also grabbed
his six pokéballs off of his dresser, only two of which had pokémon in them,
and attached them to his waist. He walked out of his room and headed
downstairs. When he reached the bottom of the stairs, he saw his mother in
tears.
"What's wrong Mom?" he asked
"M-my b-b-baby's leavin' home and I won't be able t-to see him again,"
she answered.
"Don't worry Mom, I call you whenever I can, and I'll come to see you
and Dad whenever I'm near the island," he promised.
"O-okay, b-but you b-be careful, I d-don't want m-my son getting himself
k-killed," she said.
"Okay Mom, I promise that I'll be careful."
After a big hug from both of his parents, he walked out the door and
headed for the harbor. As he walked, he pulled the boat ticket out of his
pocket and looked at it.
"Hmmm, Pier 8," he thought to himself. "Okay, this is Pier 3, then Pier
8 should be at the end of the harbor."
As he walked toward the pier, he was thinking that his parents probably
got him booked on some freigter that was heading for the mainland and was
also carrying passengers. He finally reached the end of the pier and looked
at the ship that was docked there.
He looked over and saw the largest luxury liner that he had ever seen in
his life. He took a look at it from bow to stern, and estimated that it was
about three- hundred feet in length. He walked up to the turnstile, showed
the man standing there his ticket, and started up the boarding ramp.
When he reached the top, he was promptly greeted by the captain of the
ship.
"If you'll let me see your ticket, I'll have someone show you to your
room," the captain said.
"Sure thing, here you go," Charles replied as he handed the captain his
ticket.
"Okay, so your room number is one-thirteen," the captain said.
He called a short man over to him, and said something to him in what
sounded like French, but Charles couldn't hear it well enough to tell for
sure.
"Right this way Monsieur," the short man said as he pointed toward a
hallway.
As the man led Charles to his room, Charles noticed the portraits on the
walls. He could only recognize a few of them form the pictures in his
textbooks, but the rest were a complete mystery to him.
"Here we are Monsieur," said the short man as he opened the door.
When Charles looked inside, he saw a huge, King size bed with a canopy.
He then let his eyes drift around to the rest of the room. On the table he
noticed a basket full of tropical fruit. He took a banana out of the
basket, grabbed his pokédex out of his backpack, and laid down on the bed.
He figured that he should get a head start on becoming a pokémon master by
learning as much as he could about pokémon on his two day trip to the
mainland.
After about two hours, he found it impossible to keep his eyes open, so
he took off his shoes and curled up in the bed.
******************
Okay, glad you stuck with it this long and any comments that will enhance my
writing skills are appreciated, flaming is not.
Articuno72584