Chapter 12: Depression
Mark and May healed their pokémon, then started walking off to the hotel.
“Mark, I think that was very brave of you. You were ready to die for Mew.”
“May... everyone would’ve done that...”
“No! And more! Most people would just have shut their eyes and thought ‘Okay, I’m dead, bye’, but you were actually thinking even when you thought your last moment had come! That’s a great gift you’ve got, being able to think any time!”
“May... please... if those classmates of yours heard you...”
“They won’t, and if they do, I’ll give them the same experience you got!”
“May... please stop it... I don’t feel so good...”
“Rubbish. Why shouldn’t you be feeling well? You won the battle, Scyther got resurrected, Mew is safe, and you felt very good just a few minutes ago!”
“May, don’t talk about this...”
“Why not? This was an adventure! A very exciting adventure!”
“Maybe to you! May, please stop and listen to me for a moment!”
“What’s wrong, Mark?” May asked.
“May... do you know how I feel when I think about anything sharp, anything related to that man, anything related to death? I relive this whole ‘adventure’ fast forward, I get the same feeling I got when Scyther was threatening to kill me, I get the feeling I imagine it must be to get a 30 centimeters long fang through my body, I get the feeling it must be to be stuck in a ventilation and have to watch your friend being killed, I get the feeling I imagine it is to die, and I can’t think of anything else, and I feel like I can never be happy again!”
There was some silence, then May said: “You’re depressed, Mark.”
“Yes. People who have such an experience can get depressed. But you must get over it! Some people don’t, and they do never become happy again!”
“Oh great!” said Mark loudly. “I’m depressed, and I’m going to kill myself soon because I’m so curious to know if it’s the right feeling of death I keep getting...”
May did not take this joke well. “Mark. If you even think about committing suicide, I’ll stop you, no matter what!”
“May, can’t you take a little joke?”
“You shouldn’t be joking about this! Depression is a very serious thing! And if you say it once, even if it’s a joke, you’re more likely to say it again, and then you might mean it!”
“May, I think talking about this over and over won’t help.”
“Hey, you’ve not recorded Scyther in your pokédex yet!” said May, changing the subject.
“You’re right.” Mark took out Scyther’s pokéball and the pokédex, then pointed the pokédex at the ball.
“Scyther – mantis pokémon. Scyther uses its sharp scythes to kill its prey, quickly and effectively. They are very rare, because they have been overhunted by trainers for the much-preferred evolution, Scizor.”
“Did you hear that??? Even the pokédex is against me! “...uses its sharp scythes to kill its prey...” thank you, pokédex, just what I needed!” Mark was angry. Suddenly, Scyther’s pokéball burst open. Scyther came out and said to Mark: “Scyther scyther scyther! Scyther scyther... scyther, scyther scyther!”
“Really? Me too!” said Mark.
“Scyther scyther, scyther.”
“Yes, it’s exactly the same with me!”
May whispered in Mark’s ear: “Did I misunderstand it, or did Scyther actually say something about depression?”
“Yes!” said Mark. “Scyther is depressed, too! It’s exactly the same, except Scyther keeps thinking about what would’ve happened if its scythe had slipped, and gets the feeling of getting Fangcat’s fang through its body again, gets the feeling of dying again, and gets the feeling Scyther imagines it must’ve been to be me!”
“Wow. That’s weird.” May didn’t say anything else for a second, but then she said: “I think both of you should think about when you felt better. Mark, you should think about the exact moment when you found out he wasn’t going to kill you. Scyther, you think about the feeling of being resurrected.”
They walked to the hotel in silence. Mark and Scyther were both concentrating on those moments. May got two rooms, handed Mark one key and went to hers. Mark took the key, went to his room and flung himself on the bed. Scyther did, too. They lay there until Mark sighed.
“Scyther, do you also find it hard to think about just one moment for long?”
“Come, then. I’ll introduce you to my other pokémon.”
Knowing Gyarados couldn’t be let out in the room, he went to the hotel’s battle arena, with a pool in the middle.
“Go, Charmeleon! Sandslash! Jolteon! Dratini! Gyarados!”
The pokémon appeared, looked at Mark, then saw Scyther and looked at it like you would if your best friend appeared at your house with a gun.
(pokémonish translator on)
“Guys, this is Scyther. Scyther is my newest pokémon.”
Charmeleon looked at Scyther again. “Are you the guy who stole us pretending to be our trainer, or did you steal the thief’s Scyther while stealing us back?”
“Neither. Scyther joined us.” And Mark told them the whole story.
“And... are you sure we can trust this Scyther?” asked Charmeleon.
“Of course! If not for Scyther, I don’t know where we would be! There are some possibilities... I would maybe be dead, and you’d be owned by that madman. Or we’d still be there and never see each other again. Or we’d be here, but the Mew hunter would know about Mew’s hideout. Or he’d be threatening to kill you, and then he’d be meaning it.”
“Mark, this Scyther was going to kill you!”
“No! Scyther pretended it was going to kill me!”
“And this Scyther did not let you go!”
“...because this Scyther knew very well it wasn’t supposed to kill me!”
“Mark, this pokémon is not worth your trust! Why didn’t it tell you then?”
“Charmeleon, one tiny little thing: I’m currently suffering from depression, and Scyther is too! And do you know how Scyther feels when Scyther thinks about this? Scyther thinks about what would have happened if its scythe had slipped. Scyther thinks about what it must have been like to be me. And Scyther got run through by a thirty centimeters long fang for you and me! I want all of you to accept Scyther as one of you!”
(pokémonish translator off)
The first pokémon to accept Scyther was Sandslash. Maybe because Scyther had got along with a Sandslash for a long time, or maybe because Sandslash had big claws too. Sandslash walked over to Scyther and said “welcome!” to it.
The next pokémon was Gyarados. Gyarados was so big, it seemingly knew it didn’t have to fear Scyther. The third pokémon was Jolteon. It knew Scyther was a Bug/Flying pokémon and Electric pokémon didn’t have to fear it. Next, it was Dratini. Mark had no idea why Dratini wasn’t afraid of Scyther’s sharp scythes, but it didn’t seem to be.
Then only Charmeleon was left. It certainly wasn’t afraid of Scyther. But it crossed its arms, gave Scyther a nasty look and then turned around. Scyther looked at Charmeleon with an even nastier “fine, have it your way, see if I care!” look, then crossed its arms and turned around, too.
“Oh, stop it, you two!” said Mark, but they didn’t move. The other pokémon looked at Scyther, then at Charmeleon, then at Mark, and then at each other. Mark looked at his watch, it was getting late.
“Hey, I’ll let all of you sleep out of your balls tonight! Gyarados, I guess you’ll have to be here, but the rest of you can sleep in my room.”
When they went to sleep, Mark slept in the bed, and the pokémon on the floor. Mark made sure Charmeleon and Scyther were both fast asleep when he fell asleep, and then he had a very strange dream.
At first, it was just the nightmare he’d been expecting, more reliving the day, more feeling death, more Fangcats and Scythers and more blood, but after that, he saw two yellow eyes, felt horrible pain, and then he woke up, all sweaty. His pokémon were all still asleep. Then he fell asleep again. He had another such dream, but then he was with Mew in front of him, and threw a pokéball. Mew was absorbed into the ball, and he saw himself taking the ball, but he had no face. Then a roar found its way through the dream and Mark woke up to see Scyther awake. It apparently had a nightmare, too. Scyther had seen itself killing Mark, Fangcat, the feeling of the fang through its body, and then it had seen itself attacking various pokémon, but Mark wasn’t there. The other pokémon didn’t have a trainer either. They both went back to sleep, had more nightmares that were all something like that, and kept waking each other. It was a terrible night.
But somehow, Mark had the feeling he felt better than he would have if Scyther wasn’t also depressed. They went through this together, and it made both of them feel better. However, Scyther and Charmeleon were still enemies. Scyther wouldn’t look at Charmeleon and Charmeleon wouldn’t look at Scyther.
But Charmeleon’s dislike for Scyther wasn’t what it thought. Charmeleon had managed to convince itself it was because it wanted to protect Mark from Scyther because Scyther wanted to kill him. But deep down, Charmeleon knew very well that Scyther didn’t want to kill Mark. Charmeleon was jealous. Charmeleon felt like it was all Scyther’s fault that the man didn’t give Mark his pokémon to fight. Charmeleon had wanted to be the pokémon that fought Fangcat. I’ll show this Scyther, Charmeleon thought, I’ll show it...
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