Hello there! 

I bet your wondering who I am.

	Well, to tell you the truth... I'm not who I use to be. I use to be 
carefree, happy, and most of all...I use to have friends. I use to be Misty 
Waterflower. I use to have people who cared for me.
	But that's in the past now. Now I'm strong, smart, and a little bit 
jealous. In the past I was jealous, but for a different reason. 
	In the past I was weak. I didn't like it. I watched my friends excel in 
their talents. Like Ash, for instance, he was in a Pokemon tournament, and he 
beat his rival. I could never really beat anyone, and I never had a rival.
	He was lucky.
	Everything fell into his hands.
	He was the chosen one
	He was everything I wasn't, and for that I began to hate him.
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It all started when we all went to our room. Ash, Brock, and me. The three 
amigos. I was going to sleep, and my thoughts meandered around in my mind like a 
river with it's own course. 
	Boy, Ash is a great Trainer.
	I wish I were good as him.
	I can be, I just have to train!
	Haven't I tried that already?
	Maybe I'll just stick by his side traveling forever.
	Why can't I be a good trainer too?
	You can be.
	But how?
	Anything is possible with a little test.
	A test of what?
	Hello?

	I could hardly believe that I was thinking a conversation with myself. My 
thoughts continued to come.
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The next morning I woke up and ate a muffin. Ash ate nearly took all the eggs in 
the buffet line.  I giggled to myself.

What a selfish pig Ash is.

Whoa, I didn't just think that, did I?

Ash came to my table. He asked me some question, his voice muffled with eggs. I 
nodded slowly, and started to feel sick. Time seemed to go faster and faster. 
Ash was flapping his gums, and Brock was complaining about Ash table manners. 
	I got up and left before I thought I was going to throw up. "Way am I 
thinking this things?" I asked myself. Before I knew it, I was back in the 
Pokemon Center's lobby. I sat down and picked up a magazine to read.

"Lets go Misty!" Ash urged, "I don't want to be late!"
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I sat in the bleachers. Ash was battling a tough trainer; his hat had blown off 
of his head in a whirlwind attack. 

"Hey, Brock." I muttered, "do you ever get jealous of Ash? I mean he is a great 
trainer and is very lucky."

"Hmm? Well I suppose so, but I'm happy for him." And with that he turned back to 
the battle, just missing a powerful attack.

I'm happy for him? Yeah right.

I watched the battle, and realized how barbaric it was. 
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"Ash, don't you ever think that Pokemon battles are a little barbaric?" I asked 
while we waited our Pokemon Center room. It smelled like dust, the rooms always 
do.

Ash looked at me confused, his head tilted to the side a little.

"I suppose 'barbaric' isn't in your puny vocabulary." I thought aloud.

"No, I know what it means, but your kinda right. Making Pokemon battle for sport 
doesn't seem right…" he thought a bit, then Gary came barging in.

"Yo Ash, this weird guy wants too see Misty, he talks really weird." Gary 
explained.

I got up and headed out the door. I heard Gary say something to me, "Don't trust 
him." He said. 

Pfft, I should have listened to him when I had the chance, but it's too late 
now.

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Ooooh! I hope you liked it! ._.; I don't know why it took me so long to write 
it. Review please! I'm actually checking my email now. xP I put in Misty's point 
of view because I had to show  stuff, live with it.