Cave
#3 of Odds, Ends, and April 1st's
I'm sorry, boy. You've been the best friend I've ever had, even if you were a brainwashed bug. I wish it didn't have to be this way, but you can't kill a zubat, and I can't eat a graveler.
I will make it quick, I won't let it hurt.
In my mind, I can see the Pokécenter in the distance, but in this cave, I can't see anything at all. I can't believe I let us get lost like this.
I will make it quick, I won't let it hurt.
I can't see you but I can hear you clicking faintly, trying to talk to me without alerting the bats. Stop gently nuzzling my hand, you're going to make me cry.
I will make it quick, I won't let it hurt.
The water I found tastes foul. It must be tainted by guano, and I've just poisoned myself. Yet, this filth isn't the taste that disgusts me. It's the flavor of your mushroom giving me the energy to wander this blind darkness alone for a few days more.
Only by walking alone have I truly learned fear.
As I lay dying in this cave, I like to imagine that, if you could have understood this situation, that you would have given your life to save--at least, prolong--mine willingly.
That hope is the only comfort I have left.