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From the beak of Grimsby

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There was always something wrong with me. I have been diagnosed with everything. Depression, social anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder. These words mean nothing to me but sick, evil labels. Even as a kid I was called Grimsby the crazy. I never knew why that was so, but maybe I do now. I look into the computer screen, trying to read past the words, the pixels...trying to find meaning. All meaning was lost years ago. I have lost everyone I cared about...mainly to death.

I faintly remember my little sister, Gamed. The memories come back to me, haunt me at night. I was a small Murkrow back then, not the large and once handsome Honchkrow I am now. Small, snappy, and with a large imagination. Gamed shared my sense of adventure, and so one day we decided to go out despite our parent's wishes. We decided to go to the large mountain that we lived by. It was wonderful, with large white rock cutting up against the sky like a sharp rocky knife, water snaking down one side of it. The trees we lived in sat at the bottom of the mountain, so it wasn't too far away. But I still feel I shouldn't have gone. Maybe I should have warned my little sister of the rock slides, of the pokemon that lived there with their wild feral mentalities. You don't think of that sort of thing as a kid. So when we flew to the top of the mountain we felt on top of the world. Nothing could harm us! We were invincible, unbeatable. But we were wrong. Things started to go wrong as soon as we heard a large roar from not too far away. We should have flown, followed the other countless pokemon running for their lives. We only flew when we saw a great orange beast of fire and dragonish claws. This beast still haunts my nightmares, its leering eyes still piercing into my soul today. Flames erupted from the mouth of this creature, flowing past cruel white fangs. We flew at the first sign of danger, or the first one we actually noticed. Gamed was slow, she had just learned how to fly, and the Charizard soon caught up with her. I was too busy flying away to notice, too busy to save her, too busy to even care where she was...till I heard a scream and the horrible sound of rock crushing bone. Death by rock-slide. One of the most horrible ways to go.

That hit me, hard. I was once full of life and happiness, and that all drained away. Even when I acted happy, being perky can be an easy act to do. So that's what I did, hiding and bottling my emotions, the idea that her death was my fault. It continued to bubble inside me, but at least no one knew that I was a murderer. Or crazy. Or maybe both. I was too scared of the labels that could wrap around me for life. I didn't need help, I felt I was fine. Showing emotions was a show of weakness. Even Seedeth, with her evil molesting couldn't hurt me, and if her sick ways did, I really can't remember. Everything that could hurt me was hidden, or was wiped from my memory completely. That kept me sane, till I met Tickith.

The Tribe of happiness may have been a corrupt tribe with only obedience to one master in mind, but it is where I found love. Seedeth, Ruffled and the gang had came to such a place searching for a place to hide from the PRO, a mob out to get the two lesbian lovers. To be fair, Seedeth deserved to be persecuted, but Ruffled did not. She was just an innocent bystander who just happened to be the leader's apple of his hungry, lust filled eye. I'm sure Jason did love her at some point, but like Seedeth his mind had become so twisted by power and desire to get what was his that he must have become a completely different person. Like me, really. I met Tickith while walking through this tribe, and his brown, glossy wings caught my eye. The tribe of happiness supports random mating, and to be fair we did mate pretty quick. But soon, I felt like it was more, I got dependant on him. This was a bad thing, and so I started trying to shake him off me. I argued about every little thing, making everything difficult, but made sure he wouldn't leave me as a result of my silly nit picking. He stuck by me like glue, and soon I stopped resisiting him. Everything was settled. By then I had evolved while fighting by Ruffled's side, with her support giving me hope. Maybe I was normal, maybe I could be happy forever and ever with Tickith. Maybe, this was my mate for life.

But then, I had to start an argument. The Murkrow tribe that I belonged to sent me a message, inviting me to a special "Murkrow and Honchkrow only" dance. Of course, Tickith wanted to go. But...I couldn't let him. After all, it was Murkrow and Honchkrow only. The arguement went on for a long time, and I eventually dumped him. It was a spur of the moment thing, and that was all it took to destory my life.

He was pronounced dead the next day. Jason was to blame, as he was in the area at the time of attack. Jason didn't kill him for any specific reason either; Tickith had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. My whole world shattered at this point- it was all my fault. If I hadn't dumped him during that argument, he wouldn't have gone off in a huff, and he wouldn't have met Jason's cruel teeth. Sure, Seedeth and Ruffled preformed some kind of vendeta against Jason, destorying his will to live, but it wasn't enough. Tickith was gone, and nothing could bring him back. No matter were I went, I would find something that would remind me of him. Trees, rocks, bird pokemon. You name it, it would remind me of Tickith. I started labeling myself as a serial killer; I had caused the deaths of the two most important people in my life. This shattered me, leaving the pieces for the rest of the Gang to pick up. Shi especially tried to help me out, feeling pity for my shattered self, but it wasn't enough. Soon enough I made my goodbyes and left the group for good, feeling that they would be better off without me.

It was then the panic attacks started. It would happen anywhere with a four legged pokemon. I'd freeze up, and start attacking said pokemon in a fit of mad rage. There was nothing I could do to stop it, every pokemon with four legs was seen as Jason in my mind. It was the most realistic hallucination I had ever seen, even the ones I used to see as a kid before I was given medication. I fell deeper and deeper into a black hole, my mind getting more and more parinoid the more the days went by. This was worsened by my computer, which was given as a gift. Computers were a new thing, technology stolen from the humans who had just died out at this point in time. I soon became depenant on the computer, using it to do everything. Order food, talk to people, pay the bills- I could do everything with the click of a button. This is where I am stuck now. There's no one left to help me. I feel so alone, I wish someone was out there to help me. If only my friend were back, I'd do anything to see them again.

Extract from Grimsby's Dittobook page
Very depressing Grimsby fic, I'm afraid. This guy needs more love...maybe I'll finish writing the valentines thing with him in it...Idk.

Grimsby is one of those characters in my fic that just seems swept under the rug. I don't really focus on him very much- he was once based off a friend of mine, though he has now spiraled down into what seems to be the depressed but hiding it guy. Poor guy.

Pokemon (c) Nintendo
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