Fragile
By Kawaii Cherry Blossom
Disclaimer: I don’t own Pokémon, or the song ‘Fragile’
by Delta Goodrem. The rights to both are property of
their respective owners.
Rating: M15+ - Mature themes
Genre: Drama/Angst/Romance
Type: AAMRN
Summary: Taking a break from Pokémon training, Ash
returns to
Ages:
Ash – 18
Misty – 18
Chapter 2
Title
“Sometimes
I feel like I’m alone
Sometimes
I feel like I’m not that strong
Sometimes
I feel so frail, so small
Sometimes
I feel vulnerable
Sometimes
I feel a little fragile
A little
fragile…”
ASH
I can feel my heart pounding in my chest, my fear
overtaking me, as I spot Misty lying on the kitchen floor, her eyes closed,
with fragments of what used to be a glass smeared around her.
“Mist?” I call out her name softly as I kneel down
beside her, being careful not to kneel over any glass. Her eyes are closed, but
she’s breathing softly.
“Misty, can you hear me?” I touch her cheek gently but
she doesn’t stir. What’s wrong? Is she sick? Is she not telling me something? No
time to worry about that now, though. I should move her onto the couch…
I sigh worriedly, before putting my arms underneath
her and lifting her up, and I’m sure that right now, my face is extremely red,
but I don’t care. I can’t help but notice, though, that she’s extremely light.
Not that she was ever heavy, though…
Laying her down on the couch, I sit beside her and
glance down at her. She really is beautiful. She hasn’t changed much over the
years, still as pretty as ever. Her hair is longer though, and she doesn’t wear
it up anymore. She’s wearing a touch of makeup, as well. Her sister’s
influence, I’m guessing. It’s her clothing that strikes me as quite strange.
She’s dressed in jeans and a baggy jumper, although it’s hot outside. I don’t
have time to ponder it, however as she begins to stir. Her hand moves up to her
head as her eyes flutter open, and for a moment she looks confused, before she
shoots up.
“Huh?” she cries, glancing around.
“Mist, it’s alright,” I say, putting my hand on her
arm comfortingly. I don’t care that she can probably notice the blush spreading
across my cheeks as I do so, I just want to know what’s wrong with her.
“Oh…” she says quietly, calming down and laying back
on the couch. “What happened?”
“I don’t know…” I tell her. “I heard the sound of a
glass being dropped, and you were in the kitchen on the ground. You fainted…”
“Oh…” she glances away, looking uncomfortable.
“Misty… Are you sick or something?” my tone is
serious, and it’s making her very nervous, I notice.
“N-no, I’m fine,” she stammers, but regains her
composure and looks back at me with a slight smile playing across her face.
“I’m just a bit tired, that’s all. Running the gym by myself is a big job, you
know.”
How tired can she be to collapse? Surely, she knows
how to organise her time so that she gets enough
sleep… She does look tired, but… There’s something else. She’s lying, and I can
tell. But I know better than to question her. The last thing I want is for her
to get angry at me…
I glance up at her, noticing that she looks as if
she’s going to fall asleep again.
“Maybe you should get some rest, then… I can look
after the gym for you.”
“But…”
“No buts, Misty, you need sleep. You can’t be
collapsing. What if I wasn’t here to help?”
She doesn’t argue, I think she’s too tired to even
attempt it. Instead, she lets her eyes close and falls back against me, leaning
her head on my arm.
“Don’t leave Ash…okay… Don’t leave me…”
What?
I wonder if I’m hearing things, and I glance down
instantly, but she said it. What does that mean? Her voice sounded so innocent,
so…delicate, like a child who needs reassurance.
“I won’t…” I reply, but she’s already asleep, her
breaths coming out softly and steadily as she lies against me.
Something is going on, here. I’m sure of it now. But
what… She could be sick, that’s the most likely possibility. But why wouldn’t
she tell me? I’m her best friend… She hasn’t contacted me in three months, which
is very strange because usually we write at least once a week, and talk on the
phone most nights. But every time I tried to call over the past few months,
there was no answer. I even contacted Cerulean’s Officer Jenny, to check if
something had happened, but she told me that the Gym was running as per normal.
What’s going on with you, Misty…?
MISTY
Where am I?
Oh, I’m on the couch, I realise
as I take in my surroundings. A moment later, a recollection of thoughts drifts
into my mind as I remember what happened earlier. And it must have been much
earlier, since it’s dark outside.
Shoot.
I wonder if Ash is suspicious. You idiot, Misty, of
course he’s suspicious. You collapsed, for goodness sakes. Oh well, it will
just take a bit of fake reassurance to turn his concerns around.
But I want him to find out. I want him to find out so
he can help me.
No, I can’t be helped by him, only by myself.
God…this is going to kill me...
No it’s not. But wouldn’t you rather die than be the
disgusting person you are now?
Yeah, I would.
Closing my eyes, as if in pain, I will my thoughts
away, and my nose takes in a scent coming from the kitchen. Moments later, Ash
appears, his concerned eyes lighting up when he finds me awake.
“Misty, hey. How are you feeling?” he asks, kneeling
down beside the couch.
“Fine, thanks…” He smiles at that, and stands up.
Good, he believes me.
“That’s good to hear. I made you some soup. I’ll be
right back.”
“Oh, no, really, I’m not hungry,” I call out, but he
keeps on walking, before he disappears through the kitchen door.
Damnit.
Moments later, he reappears, holding a bowl. With
careful concentration, he places it on the coffee table in front of me, and
sits down beside me.
“Ash, really, I’m not hungry…”
“Don’t be silly, you have to keep up your strength.
There’s nothing worse than feeling hungry, especially when you’re tired!”
Yeah…
“Here,” he takes the tray and sets it on my lap.
I can’t eat this, it’s full of sugar and fat.
But I have no choice. If Ash finds out…
I can always get rid of it later…
Picking up the spoon, I notice Ash is peering at me
worriedly.
“What?” I ask, becoming annoyed. He looks away
immediately, standing up and smiling at me. I glance down at the soup, a sick
feeling rising up in my stomach as I look at it. I can feel his eyes on me, so
trying not to think about it, I dip the spoon into the liquid and bring it up
to my mouth, before swallowing it slowly. I fake a smile up at him and push
aside my thoughts.
“When did you learn how to cook?” I ask, raising an
eyebrow. He laughs sheepishly.
“Brock taught me. Said it was about time I learned how
to do things myself.”
Smiling slightly, I glance back down at the soup, and
knowing he’s still watching me, I take another small spoonful. He tells me
he’ll be back in a few moments, and leaves the room, but I only half notice.
It tastes so good… Food tastes so good… I’m aware,
now, of how hungry I am. When was the last time I ate anything? This morning I ate
a banana...
No, I can’t do this. I can’t!
But it’s too late, and I’ve finished the bowl before
my thoughts have the power to protest.
“Oh, you’re finished. Do you want another bowl?” Ash
asks. I didn’t even notice him come back in the room…
Yes. Can I have fifty more bowls please? As well as
ten-thousand bags of chips, a million chocolate bars…
Oh God, shut up Misty and shake your head, you idiot!
Shaking my head, I move forward and place the tray
onto the table. Though I feel shaky and unstable, I force myself to stand, and
he moves forward instantly to support me.
“Whoa, be careful.”
“I’m fine, Ash. I just want to go to the bathroom,” I
say, a little too much anger invading my voice, and he steps back and nods. I
glance away from his worried eyes and want to cry, fall into his arms, plead
with him to help me.
But no, I can’t. I can’t. He’ll just ruin everything…
Keeping myself steady, I move towards the downstairs
bathroom. I don’t think I’ll be able to make it up the stairs… When I reach the
bathroom, I push the door shut and make sure it’s locked. I turn on the radio
in the shower and move towards the toilet, opening the lid and kneeling in
front of it. I close my eyes, my emotions swirling in my head, a painful
tornado of thoughts. But no, this is the only way…
Leaning over the bowl, I stick my fingers down my
throat and feel the sick feeling rise within me, as I throw up what I just ate.
This is the only way.
This is the only way.
To be
continued…
Just a quick note… I know the chapters are short, but
they are meant to be. Short ‘n’ simple. ^^ Thank you for reading.
Love and light,
Sarah.