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The world around me is caving in. How long until I die here? My parents have been dead for a few days; I lived alone at age 3. I couldn’t cook or anything. I was a helpless poor child. The light bleed in from the windows still covered with blood. They had been killed with pokemon. I couldn’t believe that someone would use poor little pokemon to kill others. My parents were scientists; they were working on an egg. It laid on a table close to me; the killer could never find it since the egg and me were hiding. A Manaphy egg they called it. It was blue with a solid red center, floating around.
When I put my hand against it; it was warm and smooth. I jerked my hand away when it moved. Finally I picked it up; placing it carefully into a baby stroller my mother used to get it moved around. “Manaphy,” my voice cracked, still shaken, “when you hatch, I’ll call you-“ I paused along time, “Baby.”
That settled it. I went outside to find some fruits in near by trees. I picked enough for me and Baby (if he hatched) and went on my way through the woods. I knew about pokemon but never really seen on up close by myself. Until now. There stood before my eyes, an eevee. It was perfect just like my parents said. It was also very, very beautiful. It ran off when I moved closer with Baby. Finally, my long walks paid off. There behind a few trees; once eevee left I saw the town. A sigh of relief came over me. I picked up Baby and ran faster then ever to a Pokemon Center.