• MIX OF GENERATIONS: BREAKOUT
    Chapter 1
    I'm not sure where my life began. Or where it ended. All I remember was, at the time, I was a Typhlosion, and that my roommate, once again, was pushing me to the edge.
    "Where the heck have you been?" I asked questionably. An obvious look of anger was stained on my face after years of fighting verbally, and as a child, physically.
    "I haven't been anywhere that concerns you," Grovyle had spat. "Besides, I don't need to tell you anything." Grovyle, the worlds worst, and the most annoying, roommate a person could get. The fact that he constantly is breaking the rules set by the owners, doing drugs, and drinking, is an understatement compared to his behavior.
    "I believe it concerns me when you bring your "girlfriends" over practically every night. I there's a little something called college! I'm not going to get my grades up in it while you keep me up all night!" In fact, the only reason I stayed his roommate was because, of college. It was costing me pretty much all the money I had, and I'm going to make, to pay for it. Luckily the room I was staying at was close to the college. And it doesn't hurt to be cheap either.
    "Well sorry, some of us are trying to live our freaking lives! I mean, not all of us are studious little boys who do whatever their parents tell them to." Grovyle said. "Seriously! You're freaking such a little kid! Have you ever tried having some dang fun!?"
    "I'd rather be making tons of money then laying in the grass with a hangover. Besides, if I party all night, I'm never going to move on with life in the future."
    Perhaps it was the tension obviously present in the air. Or maybe it was the temperature of the night air seeping in through the cracks in our windows. But something had made my Flames furiously increase in their size, and the began licking the air. Sucking all of the oxygen up that they can get. Once the flames raised in their size, I suppose Grovyle didn't feel to comfortable. I mean, if a blade of grass gets next to a pile of oozing lava, I could see why I would want to just hurry up and leave the room.
    "I don't have to take this. In fact, I don't need you! That's it! I don't need you, I don't need this house, and I don't need this freaking heat always in my face! I'm going out to the field..." Grovyle shouted, as he stormed out of the room, leaving several leaves behind him.
    The field was a bar down in the city. It happened to be a "GRASS-TYPE ONLY" bar. Or, at least that’s what they claimed. But when I came by and looked into the tinted window I could have swore I saw a few fire-types hanging around some rich guy. But like I said, the windows were tinted. Plus, I've never been inside, so I wouldn’t know.
    To be honest, Grovyle and I... Where good friends.... Contradicting, arguing friends. But besides that. We had an decent connection. I may have accidentally set him on fire, and he may have left so many leaves that I nearly burned the house down. But I couldn't deny the fact that we were a team. Hopefully he thought that too.
    I ran off into the kitchen, trying to avoid the leaves on the ground. It wasn't that I was afraid I'd step on them and they'd catch fire. It was that I was afraid the wind would swoop them up next to my burning mane and set them ablaze. As I managed my way around the leaves, I opened closed a window next to the utility closet. I figured It'd be better not to let anymore leaves inside here. Or at least I didn’t want the wind to blow my fire over and burn the walls or the roof, or something worse.
    When I reached for the knob of the car and turned it, the door hadn't opened easily. Thanks to my instincts, it didn't open at all. I had kept my hand gripped to it, while I rested my other hand on the actual wood of the door, charred black from a previous accident. As soon as I stepped away from the door, taking my hand off the door, knob and all, it seemed the door had collapsed, or more like fell over. Actually, I think it did. I remember last seeming it on the floor. Well, when it fell, it released almost all of its contents. Garbage bags filled with bottles of beer, empty beer, and laundry came down like a shower of bullets. Much larger, not as lethal, bullets.
    The items buried me and nearly suffocated me. If it wasn’t for the fact my heat burned all of the cloths, and burned through the plastic of the bags, as well, I might have. As soon as the the weight of the bottles and cloths was light enough for me to stick my head out, I sucked in a huge breath, and spit out several pieces of glass. Luckily my mouth, after years of spitting fire, was used to this kind of damage. I quickly conjured up some saliva and spit out the rest of the glass, it melting as it hit the ground.
    After I managed to squeeze the rest of my bottle through the pile of useless things, the smell of melted plastic and wool filled the air. Along with some smoke. Now, normally I'd like this smoke more than anything, because it's a fire related substance, but then again, I had sensitive. And what loud noise comes with smoke? An alarm, and as soon as the smoke hit the alarm, it blared its casual noise. I threw my hands to my ears, trying my best to block out whatever noise I can keep out. Before it could continue any longer, I spit a ball of fire quickly onto the alarm, also setting fire to a the ceiling it was attached to.
    To add to my problems, Grovyle had stumbled in, allowing the door to fly open and slam into a wall. Only it stayed inside the wall. He started yelling random things I couldn't quite understand. He was clearly drunk, for his words slurred something awful. I through the window open to allow the wind to blow out the fire, which I was hoping was a logical thought, then ran over to the door and yanked it out of the wall. A hole was easily visible there.
    "Dang it Grovyle! Our landlords are going to kill us now! We already own them over thousand poke, or the current Pokemon currency, and now this is just going to add a few hundred!"
    "Dun yu... Tak tu mu lik... that!" He could hardly finish the sentence, along with his constant burping in between the words. Plus his shouting didn't help either.
    "Ah just shut it! I don't need to deal with a drunken frat boy right now! If all you're going to do is shout and throw your slurred words, then you can just get out!" As I pointed out the door, after I said last few words, the sirens of a police car had just been cut off as it stopped in our drive-way.
    The cop happened to be a Rhydon, who seemed to be having a bad day. The way you could tell was because when he got out, his shoulders were slumped, and his head was down, but their was an obvious expression of anger over his face. While he was walking up the path that lead to our house, I turned around and noticed Groveled was no longer behind me acting a like a drunk idiot. In fact, he seemed more sober than in the mornings. He was behind one of the upstairs’ walls. How he got up there so fast, and without making any noise, I‘ll never know. But that was the least of my problems. The police officer was now in front of me, standing there, looking like a fired up ox.

    “Good after noon sir… Have you seen this man?” The Rhydon was now holding up a piece of paper. The picture on the paper was something dumbfounding to me. It was Grovyle. My Grovyle. And the reward for him was over fifty-thousand poke. It didn’t say why, but it obviously stressed the point on how much the were giving away. “He is wanted for a capital crime, and if you have any information on this man, do speak up now.

    Seeing this piece of paper made time freeze. Made life seem unimportant. My Grovyle! My roommate! My Partner! My Best friend… If you hadn’t realized why were friends. It’s because we were childhood friends. We did everything together. Then we went I separate ways on day, and I suppose he forgot all about that relationship anyway. But, the real problem now was, Grovyle had committed a crime. A capital crime. And I wasn’t sure who I should take sides with.

    What seemed like hours to me was really minutes, and the Rhydon had grown rather suspicious to how long it was taking to answer.

    “Sir, do you know anything about this man?” The suspicion in his eyes very evident. “If you know where this man is, and you don’t tell us, you can be charged for aiding and abiding a capital crime, and that will be counted as a federal crime.”

    “Who is this man… Grovyle?” I look back into my house, only quickly glancing at Grovyle, using the advantage of my casual looking to help me do that. “No, I haven’t seen him. I’m sorry sir.”

    “Mm… Well sir, if you do see this man ple-” But I wouldn’t let him finish.

    “I will indeed, let you know if I see him.” After I said those words, I began pushing him out of the doorway. “Now if you can see, I’m trying to clean my house up, which is a mess. Still!”

    “Alright just remember! His name is Gro-” I again, wouldn’t let the Rhydon finish. Only this time, I slammed the door shut, rushing up the stairs towards Grovyle.

    “What the heck Grovyle!? What did you do! Why did you do it? How could you do what you did!” I relentlessly hammered him with various questions, not letting him get a single word in. “What led you to doing it? What did you do!?!?”

    Before I got another word in, Grovyle had slapped me. This wasn’t the kind of slap that you simply rubbed away with your hand. This was a anger filled, violent slap. The kind of slap you needed to rub for hours to get the pain out. “I got my reasons you here.” And that was all he spoke.

    After he said this, I believe I just… snapped. I almost couldn’t believe what he said to me. And that’s what led me to grabbing his shirt, and throwing him onto the wall. “Oh no! You’re not giving me that! I want to know what you did. Now!” As I said these words, fire starting to become my breath.

    “I-I-I…” The words came out as a sniffle, and he could only get that single one in. But what came next rocked my world to a new degree. “I-I… I’ve killed a man…”
    And then he broke into tears, the kind of tears only a person whose committed are murder could cry.

    LINKS BELOW exclaim exclaim exclaim

    Our Future Homeland FeedBack Post

    Our Future Homeland (Not-Spaced)

    Our Future Homeland (Spaced)

    Life's Simple Similarities (Feedback Post)

    Life's Simple Similarities - N.R.W.

    Death Will Always Come - N.R.W.

    Mix of Generations: Breakout (Chapter 1) Feedback