Nurse Jamie
By Diamond
Part 3: Questions

Rating:G
Disclaimer: I don’t own pokémon. I only own my character and the ‘clones’ idea. It’s mine, all mine.

The room was filled with about 15 or so female teenagers. By the pokéballs on their belt I figured they were trainers. Some were milling around aimlessly, others brought out their pokémon to keep them company. It looked pretty ordinary at first glance.

I did a double-take. These trainers were anything but ordinary. They were me!

It was like walking into a hall of mirrors. Everyone in the room was identical to me. The girls all had short, dark brown hair cut in a straight line, higher in the back, gradually getting lower towards the front until it was touching the shoulder. Their dull hazel eyes were, like mine, full of confusion and nervousness.

The only thing that set us apart were our clothes. While some of my “clones” were wearing wacky and extravagant trainer’s outfits, I wore my usual: a pair of light blue flare jeans, blue tennis shoes, and a white shirt which was always hidden by my gray, Moltres sweatshirt. Usually trainers went for something bright and colorful to set them apart from the crowd. It didn’t work, however when everyone in a gym wore the same neon green clothes to try and get noticed. First, it blinded you, and second, they all ended up looking the same anyway.

While I was still stunned by this new revelation, a girl in a slick, purple and black spandex suit walked toward me. She stopped about ten feet away from me. Her glare obviously told me that she thought I was lower than slime. The girl looked around like she was trying to see if there was possibly anyone, anyone, else she could talk to. The girl in purple finally seemed to have decided that everyone else was not what she wanted and came up to me. She gave me another look that said I was not worthy enough to even kiss her feet. Her body posture practically screamed that she felt like a queen and that everyone else was trash.

I was prepared to hold that intimidating state as she towered over me. Wait, she’s taller than I am? When I glanced around the room again I noticed that everyone was approximately the same size too, just a little over five feet. I knew I was short, but so was everyone else in the room, why was she tall? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her shoes. I almost laughed. Her platform shoes had to have been at least six inches high! How on Earth could she walk in those?

“Excuse me.” The girl finally asked in a commanding voice, “Little girl, I was wondering if you knew anything about were we are.” Her haughty voice seemed to mock me.

My stare matched hers. I had been beaten up by a gymleader, dragged across the continent, scared out of my wits, and now I was being interrogated while I was mocked about my height. I’ll wipe that look off her face, I promised myself, one of these days.

“No, your highness,” I replied in my iciest voice, “I just got here. How am I supposed to know?” She seemed to catch my stab at her height and promptly turned her heel and stormed away.

After she left, I glanced around the room trying to see if there was anyone else who might offer some insight on my situation when a lady in a lab coat walked onto the stage.

“Hello everyone.” She spoke in the calmest manner possible and it drove me nuts. “ I am Dr. Grace and I am here to answer and questions who might have.” Immediately there was a racket as everyone shouted their questions up at her. She motioned for silence before calling on an energetic trainer with a Pichu on her shoulder.

“Who are all these people?” The trainer asked indicating the crowd around her.

“You don’t know?” Dr. Grace said thoughtfully. “Well . . . you’ll be surprised to know that you are all related.” That made sense. “However you are not closely related since you all have different last names. Also, you’ll never believe this, you’re all named Jamie!”

My jaw dropped. There was dead silence in the room for a few seconds before everyone spoke at once, making the noise almost deafening. Questions of ‘why?’ and ‘how’ were shouted until Dr. Grace managed to calm the trainers down. She indicated to another trainer to ask her question.

“Ok. I get that we all have the same name and stuff but, like, why are we here, you know? And, like, you work for the Pokémon League, right? So, like, can you tell us where Nurse Joy is?” She asked while smacking her gum.

“Interestingly enough, you two questions are related.” Dr. Grace was smiling as she launched into the tale. “Well, the Nurse Joys have all fallen ill with a mysterious sickness.” There were worried murmurs throughout the room. “Don’t worry; it only seems to infect Joys. Unfortunately however, they will be out of the Pokécenters until we find the cure.”

I sat there processing this information for a few minutes before it dawned on me that I was not going to like where this was going.

Author’s Note:
Ok, I have a long author’s note today so let’s get this over with.

First, if you like metric then here are the approximate measurements. 5 feet = 1 ½ meters, 6 inches = 15 centimeters.

Second, I just heard from someone that there was a Roman doctor named Galen. He wrote some books and was pretty famous. I would just like to say I had no clue who he was until after I had wrote the second part and had already firmly established my character’s name.

Third, I’ll copy Star in this. A big round of applause to Skyler Vane of Versus City who was the only one kind enough to at least write a few sentences to say she actually read my fanfic. Shame on anyone else who is reading this.

Lastly, review, review, and review at diamond_and_star@yahoo.com. Flames are very welcome because they keep me warm during the cold bleak days when I don’t get any e-mail.

Later,

Diamond