Archive of Our Own

The hardest part was knowing better.

I knew that it wasn’t always like this. I knew what had happened. I knew that the whole world had changed around me and that there was nothing I could do about it. I knew that I was helpless. The smiles from just one day before were fresh enough in my mind to compare and contrast with whatever glances I could get after.

So much can change in a day. So much can disappear in so little time. So much jumps out at you that you don’t notice all the shadows lurking in every corner.

At least it started on a fitting night.

I don’t remember where I originally read about the myth. I probably read it in a book a few months ago and suddenly remembered when someone mentioned the Harvest Moon was coming up. I’ve always really loved looking into stories like that. It wasn’t as fun to have so cheesy a reward with no risks, but I guess that got me out there in the end. Pumpkaboo Forest was already pretty spooky on its own.

For most people, at least. I’m a bit weird.

Maybe I should’ve known better.

The moon was beautiful. Its eerie, white light cast perfectly over our surroundings. Even with its bottom third obscured by the peak of the mountain north of us, it was big enough to give us plenty light to see. It was the beautiful light of day married perfectly with the darkness of night.

Steep mountainsides stood on either side of us as we approached. They weren’t close by any means, but they were huge. Their imposing size crushed the world around us, constantly feeling as if they were drawing closer.

I loved it!

Trevor wasn’t a big fan.

“Can we please go home, Bulba?” Trevor asked. Even floating over the grass, he shivered and stumbled over the terrain. His nubs of hands were rubbing up against each other in front of him while his wooden, stumpy head jerked looking between the mountains on either side. His orange eyes were wide enough to poke at the borders of his eye sockets.

“C’mon, Trevor,” I giggled. “How’s a phantump more afraid of ghost stories than me?”

“Don’t you get tired without sunlight?” Trevor asked. It wasn’t worth defending his pride as a ghost again. We had this exact conversation pretty much any time I dragged him into one of my spooky curiosities.

“Not as much anymore,” I said. “Just a part of growing up!” I lifted my head up high enough to brush against the bulb on my back. “It’s why mom’s started letting me stay up so late.” His nerves were still more concerned with the mountains, but he at least glance at my proud grin.

“Didn’t you say you had to sneak out?” Trevor asked. His face suddenly shot forward to look down at his hands. “What if I get caught?”

“She lets me stay up until ten,” I said, reaching a vine over to pat at the back of his stump. It was the best I could really offer for comfort, especially to someone who only had to worry about disappointing his parents when it came to consequences. “The wishes don’t get granted until midnight, and I’m still supposed to be home before eight on a school night.”

“How are you going to get back inside without them hearing the doors?” Trevor asked. That was kinda cute! He could only really be worrying about me with a question like that.

“Well,” I said, looking away. It was a pretty good question, though the answer was harder to explain. “I’ve always been really good at going through the house without making a sound.” I looked up at the moon to avoid thinking about it too much. “I guess I could climb in through my window.”

“You don’t already have a plan?” Trevor asked. At least he’d finally stopped staring at the world around us in fear. “Aren’t your parents super strict!?”

“My dad can be,” I said with a shrug. I never really understand why people think he’s unreasonable, but all my friends say about the same thing. “It’s just not that big of a deal to me. What’s the worst he can do to me now?”

Trevor didn’t hide that he didn’t like that answer, but he didn’t say anything. None of my friends ever liked lingering on the topic of my parents. Even now, I can’t help but wonder what made them so upset about the topic. Was it really that my dad was so cruel that they didn’t know what to say? Did the casual mention of it all freak them out?

Sometimes, I wonder if it’s because they knew they’d have to be just as cold one day.

“We’re almost there,” Trevor whispered. That’s how I knew he was uncomfortable. He’d never sound excited to say we’re close to the scary place I was taking him.

“Yup!” I said, easily outdoing his meager excitement. It was such a beautiful sight.

The forest loomed over us already. Its massive, lumbering trees rose high enough into the sky to join with the mountains on either side. With their towering heights combining with our meandering approach, they closed in with the mountains, trapping us deeper and deeper into the pass with every step closer. With every second, it shrouded the sky further and trapped us more, even before we made it inside.

Its shadows were gorgeous. Despite the bright moon casting their shadows south, they still found a way to creep towards us. It was almost like the stars, all but blotted out by the bright moon, had their own shadows to cast. The darkness started surrounding us from the left and behind.

The night’s smell was perfect for the season, too. That harmonious combination of the life-giving aroma of harvest meshed in perfect sync with the leaves that had begun to fall to add the undertone of fragile rot.

I’d scarcely seen an autumn so advanced so early back in town. Around my house, all the trees stubbornly held onto their leaves until the winds grew harsh enough to rip them from the branches. The trees of Pumpkaboo Forest, though, seemed all too eager to shed those vestigial, life giving appendages. The forest floor below was flooded with orange and red like claw and fingernail trimmings from an entire town.

“Ready?!” I asked, making Trevor jump. I tried to contain my excitement for his sake, but it was a lost cause. This was exactly what I’d been looking forward to!

“I-isn’t there a mystery dungeon in here?” Trevor asked. He was already eyeing the way back home.

“That’s ridiculous,” I said with a roll of my eyes. “The Gourgeist family’s had custody of this forest for generations. Why would they hold onto it for that long if they couldn’t even go into it without getting sucked up into a dungeon?”

Trevor didn’t have a good answer back. He was looking away from me with his stubs rubbing over themselves while he shook. It wasn’t quite cold enough for shivering.

“Hey, c’mon,” I said. I moved closer to him to tap at his side with my foreleg. When he looked over, I smiled all my confidence up at him. “We’ll be all right!” I tapped his side again and looked at the forest ahead of us. After taking it in for another few seconds, I narrowed my eyes with determination. “We’re gonna get our wishes!”

It took him a while for my confidence to rub off on him. He watched me for a bit, probably waiting for it to falter, but I held strong. Eventually, he managed to look into the forest with his signature, barely visible nervous smile. “A-all right,” he mumbled.

“Great!” I cheered. He was always scared, but I knew that pushing through these irrational fears was good for him. He was already more confident than that little stuttery stump that I’d first met.

Well, he still stutters. Speech impediments don’t just go away when you’re confident. Still, he’d gotten better!

I started with an eager trot into the forest. The dried, chilly leaves crunched loudly under my every step. They were like sharp cushions announcing my exact location to anyone who had ears to listen. If we had to run from something, Trevor definitely had the advantage. I could only tell he was with me by looking back to see him hovering along behind me.

The pace was a bit slow.

“C’mon!” I called. I waved him forward with a vine and started running forward, kicking up any leaves that showed up in my way.

“Bulba!” Trevor whined. Even without looking, I could see him looking around for some invisible assailant before throwing his head back in frustration and flying after me. I’d seen the sight enough before that I didn’t need to verify it for certain.

The forest itself was pretty straightforward! As far as forests go, at least. The trees weren’t uniform, but they were wide enough apart that it made it easy to see where we’d come.

Add the landmark mountains behind us and the moon, we were basically as safe as could be.

That made it a bit harder to notice when it started getting darker. Well, darker isn’t the best way to describe it. The night around us stayed about the same brightness, but little glints of light started shining a lot more. Moonlight glinting off particularly shiny leaves at just the right angle practically started glowing, and the stars that had been all but hidden suddenly became piercing as their beams rained down.

By the time I started to squint, my eyes had adjusted to the brightness enough to start obscuring the rest of the forest. The bright glints of light started detaching from whatever they shined off and floating around. Instead of illuminating their surroundings, they seemed to suck up what little light there was.

“Bulba?!” Trevor cried—ahead of me?

“Trevor?” I shouted back. Had I gotten turned around? When did he pass me? “Where’d you go?” I tried to run after the sound of his voice, but then the lights started swirling around me.

Before I could even think about running through them, I saw them shred through the bark on the trees around me. The chips of wood and bark started whirling around with them. All the leaves on the forest floor were eager to hop up and join in the swarm suddenly surrounding me as gusts of somehow corporeal light started flashing bigger and making erratic motions in their constant spin.

I started to back away only to see the whirlwind just as close behind. At the eye of the storm, I could feel all the force of all the movements whipping at my skin, swiping at the top of my bulb. As I focused on the sight in front of me, their erratic jumps and motions started to make sense.

The lights would blot out and flash again as they passed through certain spots on the air. Even the leaves and wood chips cooperated with the sight. In just a few seconds, I could start seeing the shapes of pokémon.

A wrinkled, rotting gourgeist was the first to form in front of me. The pseudo-face at its chest had cracked into itself, the smile curling into the eyes above it and pulling them down into a look of decaying agony. Instead of light shining from within, I could only see it disappearing into pure, black darkness. It made the outlined features sink even deeper into a void behind them.

It was flanked on both sides by other images drawing themselves from the emptiness behind. An espurr with its head tilted just a bit too far back sat on the left while a fletchling flapped frantically on the right. I looked around to see several pokémon taking shape all around me.

A thud resounded from right behind me. Heavy enough to shake the ground below me and loud enough to pierce my eardrums, I shot up to turn around. I lost my balance upon landing and stumbled backwards.

Reaching out from the illusions was the fully formed head and arm of a massive slaking. Its body was covered in patches of missing fur, missing skin that revealed an empty void beneath its surface. Darkness oozed out of each patch and hole, spilling over its body and onto the ground.

Slaking’s other arm slammed out of the flat picture behind. It snapped unnaturally against the grass that it hit as it started pushing itself up to glare at me. Its eyes were wide, mouth a gaping black hole.

The whipping winds around me started to hiss. Just like the lights had formed images, I could hear the winds whipping their way into disparate voices. They gnashed and hushed against each other, becoming all but incomprehensible as they all drowned each other out. Wet smacks and dry groans scratched at my ears until they all joined in unison to whisper, “Give us your fortune.”

I like to think I’m pretty fearless. My friends think so, at least. That never usually has to be tested, though. For the most part, I’m just more willing to go looking at things that might be scary.

This was the first time any horrors had actually shown themselves.

“TREVOR!” I shrieked. I spun around and shot for the other side just in time for the gourgeist to flop out of the projected image. It fell right on top of me as I dashed by, squelching all over my bulb and my head as it shattered against the force of my body.

I retched as I ran. Even seeing all the damage it did to the trees, I couldn’t help running right through the outside of the whirlwind. The instant I crossed its threshold, it threw me up and into the air.

It launched me across the forest at full speed until I suddenly smacked into a tree stomach first. I coughed up what little air I had and tried to stumble back up to my paws. I immediately looked around with blurry, spinning vision to see that I’d run fast enough to get out. With sweep after sweep of my surroundings, I couldn’t see any evidence of the whirlwind. I didn’t even see a single disturbed leaf around me.

“Trevor?!” I shouted, immediately coughing. My chest didn’t appreciate absorbing my whole body’s weight against a tree. The coughs sputtered out for a while, making it impossible to get enough breath in. By the time they died down, my vision had nearly darkened to complete black.

Even when I could finally breathe in again, it felt strained. I could hear myself wheezing like I had that first time I met a pokémon with fur. What had Saura called it? Asthma? I’d never bothered worrying about it.

With the sudden weakness in my legs and lightness in my head, I wished I’d listened to her and told mom. Why did my older sister always have to be right?

Why’d she have to be gone?

Saura used to be my confidence for these investigations when I was younger. She’d take me out to all the places that had scary stories surrounding them if they were close by. Even when I was scared, at least I had her to lean on. I thought I could do the same for Trevor.

Taking a shaky step forward, I wasn’t sure anymore. The forest was cold. Even with my strained breaths, I knew it wasn’t just a lack of oxygen making me shake.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” I whispered. I started walking forward, trying to look around and get a grip on my surroundings again. “Arceus will keep you safe.” I didn’t really believe in that kind of supernatural stuff like she does, but it still comforted me to remember her saying that to me. It was almost like she was still with me.

None of the trees had enough distinction for me to recognize one over another. They were all so spindly in the branches, twisty in the trunks, and thick in the roots. The whole of the forest’s floor rose and fell above the influence of all those roots writhing around just beneath the surface.

I looked up to the sky to try and get my bearings instead. The moon should still be north, and there was no way I’d miss the mountains. The stars were always the best method to find your way!

The moon didn’t shine through the canopy of empty branches. The trees didn’t blot out the sky in the slightest. I could easily see far past them, but I couldn’t make out any sign of the bright, full moon that was clearly still shining down on the forest. Even the stars smeared and smudged around in the sky, twinkling in brushstrokes that were both fat and gaunt.

I looked desperately around me to try and find the mountains. Surely, even if the sky was all messed up like this, the mountains would be visible. They were huge, immovable!

Just like the moon, they were gone. All that remained of the one to the north was the shadow it cast over my surroundings, but even that didn’t give me any clues on direction. Its amorphous shadow shrouded the world around me from random directions.

Even when I stood still, the shadow moved. It crept towards me just to skitter away. It would play at the edges of my vision just to swoop in from directly in front of me. I could only watch it taunt me.

“M-mystery dungeon?” I whispered, finally remembering Trevor’s warning. It sounded so ridiculous still. We’d been taken to a mystery dungeon for school before, and it didn’t look like this. The whole of the forest sprawled out around me. There were no walls to trap me in or paths to pull me in any particular direction. It was just another forest.

I took another nervous step forward and winced as I stepped in some goopy remains of that gourgeist. They must have splattered off me when I hit the tree. After another step, though, I could quickly tell that they hadn’t all flown off like that.

Those wet remains still smeared down my bulb and across my back. I could feel cold remains of the webs holding seeds together draped around my right ear. A chunk of pumpkin had mushed in behind my neck.

Right as I was about to gag and try to shake all of that disgusting viscera off me, I heard a groan from beside me. My eyes shot to it, wide as they could be, and I could see that same slaking from earlier. It could only be a meter away from me, groaning, wailing, bones crackling as it dug its hands into the forest floor to drag itself towards me. Darkness oozed down from its head, coating its entire face except for one empty eye.

I tried to scream, and it immediately turned into another fit of coughs. I started running as best as I could with such intermittent breaths, taking what little oxygen I could. The darkness closed in around me the more I coughed, but I couldn’t stop running. I had to get away.

My steps became more and more unsteady as I ran. I stumbled over light leaves and air again and again. When I finally brushed up against a big root, I didn’t have enough momentum to slide forward.

I whimpered when I hit the ground. The last few coughs clawed their way out of my throat, making my lungs sore. My chest was already unhappy to have me land on it again. I didn’t even know my lungs themselves could feel exhausted like this. It was a gentle, aching pain that jabbed deeper into me than I knew it could.

I was desperate enough that the moment I could get more breaths in, I started pushing my way up again. My eyes felt heavy. I couldn’t tell if it was from the coughing or the chesto berry wearing off. I really should’ve brought one with me. I couldn’t fall asleep out here!

“Trevor!” I hissed out between wheezes. I’d never had this much trouble speaking. Even that pitiful attempt at a call made me that much more desperate for the very next breath.

It hurt. I looked around, desperate for any sort of landmark or any sign of my friend, but I saw neither. The desperation pierced its way from my lungs into my heart. I could feel it pounding in my chest, either from exhaustion or fear. Whichever one it was, the pounding made both worse.

I didn’t have time to be scared, though. Trevor came out here with me. As terrified as I was, I couldn’t leave him alone. He needed my help, and honestly, thinking about him made it easier to push forward.

I trudged on. The light speckles of fallen leaves didn’t feel so light anymore. My paws sank deep into them with every step. I had to drag my legs out of their clutches again and again. Despite being so light and airy before, I couldn’t just shove my paws forward through them like I had earlier. I knew my breath was making me weaker, but it couldn’t be this bad.

I took a moment to gasp in what breath I could. Even the slow pace was draining me so quickly. I was still wheezing with every breath. I almost wanted to lay down, but I knew that I couldn’t entertain that impulse. If I let myself for even a moment, I didn’t know if I could get back up.

The leaves were tickling my chin now. I looked down to see that they’d risen all around me. I panicked, trying to drag myself out, but that only made it worse as I felt myself start sinking.

“Trevor!” I screamed. This time, it was for my own salvation. I tried and tried to claw my way out of this, but the ground wouldn’t let go. As my legs sank in, I could feel the ground itself clinging onto me, dragging me deeper.

I shot my vines up to the nearest branch and latched on. I pulled with all the might I had left, and it was just enough to stop sinking. Right as I felt my strength giving out, I started ascending.

It was just enough hope to push me further. My vines stretched taught as I held onto that branch for dear life. I could feel them so close to tearing at the base as I dragged them back in, but I didn’t have a choice. I had just enough height to start digging my way out of the mud. Yet, even as I pulled my paws up above the leaves, the mud still stuck to them like slimy tendrils.

Then, an ear-splitting snap. All of the tension on my vines disappeared at once. They were suddenly yanked down as the branch snapped off its tree. It spun as it fell before slamming into the earth, tangling them before it too began sinking into the ground.

I tried to tug them free, but it was useless. As the branch sank, it took my last hope of salvation with it. I started sinking even faster than before, having left a void below me.

As it yanked me deeper, I could only look forward. With only my eyes above the leaves, I suddenly saw Trevor. He was right there, floating just out of reach. My eyes popped open, and my heart surged with an influx of hope. Even though it had sunk beneath the leaves, I opened my mouth to scream his name.

Before any air could escape, the mud lunged into my mouth. I tried to slam it shut, but the murky mud was too strong. It held my mouth open as it started slithering its way down my throat. I could feel all of its slimy, disgusting glops of goo forcing its way into me. Yet, despite the consistency, I could feel every bit of it skittering its way down my esophagus.

I tried to gasp in shock, sucking the sludge right into my lungs. Even as a wave of terror slammed into me, I felt an overwhelming sense of relief. When my eyes finally sank into the sludge, it felt like finally closing them after a long, exhausting day.

I jolted up out of my bed screaming. My blankets coiled around me, yanking me down. It felt just like being tugged deeper into the sludge, making me thrash around and try to get out until I toppled off my own bed.

The motion took my blankets with me. Untucked from my bed, they flopped harmlessly over me. I easily managed to wriggle out from under them, stumbling back a few steps and bumping right into a wall. One of my windows was angled perfectly for a beam of sunlight to shine down onto my bulb, revitalizing and calming me down in one fell swoop.

My room. I was back in my room. How?

I shook my head a bit and looked around to make sure, but it was just my room. Desk, bed, meds and sharps container, everything. Green carpet I used to fall asleep on when I was a kid, weird rocks Saura told me were magical, it was my room. Every single piece of furniture and knickknack was in its place.

“A dream?” I mumbled, quickly coughing. I could still feel the scream irritating my throat. It felt just like it had last night. The coughs were less severe, at least.

That didn’t make any sense, though. I knew I’d made plans for doing this with Trevor. Even if all of that scary stuff seemed unreal, it didn’t explain what happened after I met up with him or how I got back home. I knew I’d snuck out last night.

I checked the clock to see if I was imagining the dates, but nope. On the left, it said October. On the right, it said Mon Seventh. The Harvest Moon was yesterday. I had to have gone out.

Wait, Monday! My eyes shot to the time, and it was exactly what I’d feared. It was seven thirty-three. I was running late! How had I slept through my alarm?! I didn’t even have to set it—it was automatic! As much as I wanted to figure out what happened, I didn’t have time. Waking up late was bad on any day, but of course it had to be on a Monday.

Injection day.

“Roots of the Tree,” I swore, hopping over to my desk. I dug out all the supplies with my vines as fast as I could, using my forepaws to sweep a clearing off. I hated doing estrogen like this, but the doctor said it’d be better for me and make my hormones and mood more stable, so of course dad didn’t give me a choice.

At least needles were getting less scary the more I did it.

The alcohol swab stung slightly as I rubbed it up against some random part of my belly. I winced and looked down to see a scrape. My entire bottom side was scraped up. I poked at my chest. It was still sore. That had to mean last night—

No time, no time, no time!

I swabbed another spot and cinched my eyes shut as I tilted my head up. I managed to grit my teeth enough that it drowned out my squeal from feeling the needle sinking into my skin. My vine could do the injection nearly autonomously, so I let it. It just required keeping mostly still and squeezing the plunger down. As I started pulling it out, I let my eyes peak open.

After a glance down to guide the cotton swab and bandage, I looked straight up again. I kept my eyes open this time, at least. It wasn’t quite so scary after the fact, though I could still feel my heart in my ears. I tried to keep on moving but let myself take a breath as I dropped the needles into the sharps container.

That’s when I finally saw it. The window right above me was open. The very same one that let the beam of sunlight cast over me earlier.

I wasn’t allowed to open my windows. I didn’t like them open, either.

One vine dumped every scrap of trash away while the other shot up to yank the window shut—stop it before it slammed! Then gently close and… is that how you lock it? I fumbled with the latch a bit more until I heard it click into place.

I checked the time. It was seven thirty-nine—a new record! Not that I had time to celebrate. I yanked my bulbpack over and around my bulb, latched it around my chest and ran out the door.

“Hi mom!” I said as I ran past her sitting on the couch. I nervously checked the living room clock and noticed another minute had passed already. I ran into the kitchen and hopped up to the kitchen table only to see an empty space in front of me. I looked around from the higher vantage point but saw nothing. My lunchbox was on the counter, but it was open and empty.

“Mom?” I hopped down and ran over to her. “Where’s breakfast and lunch?”

“You have to start making them yourself, Bulba,” mom said. She leaned down from the couch to nuzzle against my face, but I stepped back to glare at her.

“Today?!” I asked. I looked at the time again—two more minutes. “Mom, it’s injection day!”

“You can always do that after school, Bulby,” she said.

“You know I can’t!” I said. It was really hard to keep from raising my voice. “What if my voice starts dropping again?” Just mentioning it made it much easier to start talking quieter. “It’s already way too low for a girl!”

“Baby, your voice is higher than your sister’s,” mom cooed. She stretched her back as she stepped down from the couch and brought a vine over to brush at my cheek. “But beside that, you’re already three.” She nuzzled closer again. This time, I was too self conscious to pull away. She raised a forepaw to rub at my shoulder. “You’ll be four soon. You’ve got to stop relying on your mom so much.”

“I’m gonna be late for school!” I said, but she chuckled and stared me down.

“I don’t think that would’ve been an issue if you woke up on time,” mom said. Before I could complain again, she shushed me with her vine. “Especially with your coloring, getting up in the morning should be easy if you’d sleep under your window.”

“Mom,” I whined. I glanced between my green leg and her blue, trying not to blush. I was usually pretty happy with my coloring, even if it was technically a skin condition.

When it made a good point against me, it was more frustrating.

I checked the clock again—five minutes?! “I gotta go!” I said, running off again. There wasn’t any time for breakfast, so I shoved an apple in my mouth and started on my lunch. If I had to make my own, at least I could make it something I like. I pulled the peanut butter from the pantry with one vine, jelly from the fridge. Tossing them onto the table, I hopped up on the nearest chair and grabbed two slices of bread.

I glanced over to see mom back on the couch. She wasn’t watching. I put peanut butter on both sides before dumping a big glob of jelly onto the right. It didn’t take a lot of spreading before I could close it up, wrap it, and toss it in my lunch bag.

That took me… three minutes. No time for snacks, then! I latched my lunchbox to my bulbpack and went for the door. I held the apple in one vine to say, “Love you, bye!”

“What’s that?” mom asked. She jolted up and looked over to me. “Oh, bye Bulba.” After a second, she added. “Love you, too.”

If I’d had time, I would’ve stopped there for another minute. Mom had never forgotten to say bye. She’d definitely never said ‘I love you,’ as an afterthought like that before. It hurt a lot more than it probably should’ve, especially after I’d had to make my own breakfast and lunch.

I tried not to think about it too much as I ran to school. I chomped on the apple as I could with a frown. Mushy.

Math wasn’t too bad as a first period, at least. I had a seat right by the window, so I got plenty of sunlight, and that helped a lot. Any time I wasn’t in direct sunlight, I could feel how little sleep I’d gotten last night. Even then, sitting right in a sun beam, I felt tired. It was pretty rare that I was actually able to stay up that late, so I wasn’t used to managing it, either.

Having extra chlorophyll in my skin was good and bad. The sun might give me a lot more energy in the day time, but it made me tired basically the instant the sun went down. As proud as I was to have such a late bed time, last night was probably the first time I’d ever actually managed to stay up that late.

It was math, though. That was pretty easy to keep up with. Just like almost any other subject, it was boring, not hard. All I needed to do was pay attention.

It was just integers. Adding four wasn’t hard Friday, so I wasn’t too worried about today. I’d mostly just been worried about getting to school on time. I might’ve only had a few seconds to spare (and an apple core in my mouth), but I made it. I was lucky that my teacher wasn’t looking when I used the trash can.

As badly as I wanted to focus on the class, I barely could. It was just easy enough that I could let my mind wander. That was exactly what I didn’t want it to do.

Of course, it immediately jumped to last night again. It wasn’t hard to tell why. Even laying on my pillow, my chest still felt sore. A few of the scrapes weren’t too happy, either. I was sort of surprised they’d actually lingered for this long, but I hadn’t checked how bad they were when it first happened. It had to have been pretty bad to make my lungs do that.

That might’ve been the scariest part of last night. I’d never thought it’d get that bad again. The first time, I’d had Saura there to help me. She helped me calm down and breathe, letting me rest until I felt better. She’d almost taken me to the doctor, but it’s not like she could pay for that, and I was too scared to tell dad.

Last night, I didn’t have any time for that. I just had to keep running. It was hard to tell if my eyes were drooping, or I was just remembering my vision blacking out.

I could feel that scratching in my throat again. I looked around, but the closest mammal was a few rows over. I’d never had troubles in school before. What would make them get so bad all of a sudden? If only I’d remembered my water bottle.

The scratching started to get worse. My throat started feeling tighter all of a sudden. I tried to focus on taking deep breaths, but that only made it worse.

It wasn’t just scratching in my throat anymore. I could feel something in it. Crawling, just like the sludge had last night. It felt like a swarm of bugs trying to climb out of my throat as one cohesive whole. I started coughing, my body trying to clear up the blockage, but it only made it worse. It felt like my throat closing up at first, but then, I felt something blocking it.

My lungs started to heave, but it wasn’t enough. It only shoved that crawling, unseen swarm further up. It started crawling even more frantically up, dragging its way up my throat and into my mouth. With every cough, more and more shoved its way into my throat until it finally started overflowing.

With one chest tightening retch, a splat of that slime that had swallowed me up last night plopped onto my desk in front of me. In an instant, more started coming. It flooded my desk in mere seconds before dripping down.

I tried to look around for help. Even with my vision so dark I could barely see, I could tell I wasn’t in my classroom anymore. I wasn’t back in the forest, either.

The sludge was all around me. It dripped down the walls, coated the ceiling, and flooded the floor everywhere. There was no escape. I could feel all the world closing in around me the more sludge slithered its way out of my throat.

For an instant, I was terrified. Not that I was trapped, not that I was choking, but that the sludge was getting out of me. Faster than I could question the thought, I felt a sense of loss at it leaving me.

Right as that thought crossed my mind, it all started lunging back inside. It flooded my mouth again and skittered down my throat. It felt just like it had last night, but without any of the fear. Even as I started sinking, all I felt was relief that it was coming back. It wasn’t leaving me, not yet. Right as my vision started fading out, I could feel the sludge closing up over my ears.

“BULBA!”

I yelped and jumped in my seat, a fit of coughs coming because of the yelp. It wasn’t so bad that I couldn’t get air in, but I felt a bit lightheaded already. Still coughing, I looked up at Ms. Banette. She was pointing at the board.

“If you’re done with your nap,” Ms. Banette said, getting a few of the students giggling. I would’ve been embarrassed if I could stop coughing long enough. “Can you solve this problem.”

“Sure,” I sputtered between coughs. They were almost dying down. I tried to hold them back as I looked at the board. Three times twelve—wait, negative twelve—that was easy. I wheezed in a few full breaths, trying to ignore the snickers from the kids around me. “Thirty-six? Or, no, uh.” My eyes shot around the board for another example similar enough. Negative two time four was negative eight, so, “Negative thirty-six?”

Ms. Banette didn’t respond. It took me a moment to notice she’d raised her brows to widen her eyes. She was looking at me expectantly, which I only understood when I noticed her holding the chalk up.

“S-sorry,” I mumbled. I hopped out of my seat with a few more coughs. I still couldn’t breathe very well, and the moment I left the direct sunlight, I could feel all the exhaustion hitting me at once. It looks like a minute long nightmare in direct sunlight wasn’t enough to make up for several missed hours of sleep.

Had I seriously fallen asleep in direct sunlight? Me?

The coughing had finally stopped by the time I made it up there, but my breathing was so heavy. I tried to swallow the terror as I reached up and grabbed the chalk from her paw. At least that gave me something else to focus on.

I hate chalk. The feeling of it on my vines is awful. Even after I wash it off, I can still feel it there. It’s so awful.

With a wince, I reached up and wrote my answer on the board. The moment I’d written it, I dropped the chalk in the tray. I tried to shake it off my vine, but of course that didn’t do anything.

“Think you’re done, young lady?” Ms. Banette asked.

“Huh?” I asked. I quickly tried to rub some sleep out of my eyes before looking up at the board again. She was already pointing at another problem. “Oh, n-no ma’am.” My voice was only getting worse. As if every breath wasn’t bad enough, now every word was coming out with a wheeze, too. I tried to focus on deep breaths while I regretfully grabbed the chalk again.

Of course the tray was dusty, too.

I had more problems to solve, though. The problem she pointed out looked simple enough. Eight times three was twenty-four, and they were both negative, so… I didn’t know what that meant. I wished I’d stayed awake. The moment I started writing down negative twenty-four, Ms. Banette shook her head.

“See why you should stay awake?” Ms. Banette asked. Before I could wheeze in the affirmative, she erased the entire answer. “A negative times a negative is a positive.”

“Sorry,” I whispered. At least the lack of air made it harder to hear the other students laughing.

Only harder, though. Not impossible.

I wrote down the right answer this time. She nodded, already pointing to another question. This one was a review question, at least. We’d already added integers. I was sure I could add… five of them.

I moved to the side to get a better look. She dropped her hand to get it out of the way, accidentally clipping the eraser on the bottom of the board. It flew up and directly into my face, covering me in chalk and filling the air with it.

I immediately started coughing again. It was worse, so much worse than earlier. I’d already been struggling to get air in. Now, it was outright impossible. I tried to wipe it off my face, but that only spread it to my forepaws. I stumbled back to get away from the cloud, but I barely had the strength for two steps before I fell to the ground. Even as my vision blacked out, I could still feel myself coughing.

Then, right before I lost consciousness, I felt it again.

Crawling.

I didn’t dream this time, at least. I still woke up with a stomach full of dread, but that was just from learning what it was like to suffocate to death. No nightmares to deal with.

My face was wet. It was still a bit difficult to breathe, but I was doing well enough. Compared to earlier, it felt great. It was hard to tell if my lungs were sore, or that was still just my chest. I took as deep a breath as I could, only for something wet to brush against my face.

I yelped and hopped back to see a dark black and red beast looming over me. Before I could make out what it was, I could see its eyes.

They were deep, deeper than eyes were supposed to be. The iris started as a tight spiral that slowly grew out more and more to form the rest of the eye. Each line glowed and grew, pulling the outer layers in, deeper, lower. The deeper they got, the more I could feel them trying to pull me in.

“Bulbasaur?” the nurse asked. I blinked, and the eyes were gone. Well, he still had eyes, but they were normal. “You’re all right.” I could barely relax, but I tried. It was just nurse Zoroark.

“What happened?” I asked. Even knowing where I was, I couldn’t stop that feeling of terror.

What were those eyes?

“You’re in the nurse’s office,” Zoroark said. I already knew that, but it was a bit nice to have it confirmed. “You had an asthma attack in class, it looks like.” He held a paw forward to show he was holding a damp, powdery cloth. “I was getting the chalk off you.”

“All right,” I said. A wet face was better than a chalky face. He was still holding the cloth out to me.

“You’re awake. You can finish it off yourself,” Zoroark said. He started looking impatient, so I whipped a vine out to grab it out of his paw. He sighed with a nod and started walking away.

“Hey, wait!” I asked. My throat didn’t have the strength to even try shouting, but it got his attention at least. When he stopped and turned back, though, I regretted speaking up at all. He was glaring impatiently at me, like I was wasting his time. In a way, I guess I was. It’s not his job to deal with a student’s random fear. “Where are you going?”

“To get a stethoscope,” Zoroark explained. He didn’t sound too angry, at least. Just a bit frustrated with me, but I could already see that in his eyes. For an instant, I thought I could see the spirals coming back, dragging my attention anywhere besides myself. Then, they were gone. “I’ll be right back.”

“All right, thanks,” I whispered. I looked away and started wiping the chalk away before he looked away. I really didn’t want to see how else he would look at me.

The water was really refreshing, at least. Getting the chalk off helped plenty, and the light topical hydration was great. I must’ve been pretty thirsty, too, with how quick my skin was absorbing it. I think that happens faster on my skin, too, but I’m not sure. It might just be sunlight.

By the time I’d gotten to my forepaws, the cloth didn’t have much water left. It was just damp enough to get the last of the chalk. Even fully cleaned off, I could still feel it all over me.

Sitting on my skin, dry. Waiting. Crawling. Right as I was about to cough, Zoroark came back.

“Okay, Bulbasaur,” Zoroark said—did he not know my name? He sat on a chair next to my bed and held up the end of the stethoscope. “Roll onto your side. I need to listen to your lungs.”

“My side?” I whispered. I was already self conscious about someone seeing the bandage from my injection. The fact my bottom side was covered in scrapes and bruises only made me more hesitant. “Can’t you listen from my back?”

“You’ve got a pretty big bulb in the way of that,” Zoroark said. He forced a chuckle, but his smile looked so thin. Was I just wasting his time? “Please just lay on your side.”

“Yes sir,” I mumbled. I barely managed to keep it from a whimper, at least. I shuffled a bit closer to the edge and braced myself mentally before throwing my left legs up and flopping down to my side. I couldn’t help peeking an eye open to gauge his reaction, though.

His eyes barely widened at the sight.

“So that’s why,” Zoroark said. He nodded once and used a free paw to hold my foreleg up. I wanted to object, but when he looked up at me, I looked away. I could feel my cheeks burning into a blue closer to a normal bulbasaur’s. I did my best to squeeze my eyes shut and wait for it to be over. Even though it was sore, it was a relief when I finally felt the cold instrument against my chest.

“Breathe,” Zoroark said. I did as he said. “Breathe deeply.” He sounded so frustrated with me. I didn’t know what I was doing wrong, but clearly I was making his job harder. I took as deep a breath as I could, cheeks burning enough to get sore when I heard that loud wheeze coming back. “Keep going.”

I did. The deep breaths somehow made it a bit less terrifying to deal with this. He held the stethoscope against a few more places before nodding and pulling it away.

“That’s definitely asthma,” Zoroark said. He finally sounded neutral. I’d never been so relieved to hear someone sound tepid at best. “You’ll have to be very careful.” He turned around and pulled some gloves out of the drawer behind him, letting the stethoscope rest around his neck.

“Do you have anything that can help?” I asked. I hastily dropped back down to hide my belly before he could turn around again.

“Nothing I can do, really,” Zoroark said. He sounded more like he was imitating an apology than apologetic. “You’ll need to talk to a doctor to get a prescription.” He turned around with the gloves on his paws holding a bundle of medical looking supplies. “You’ll just have to be careful until you can get an inhaler, all right?”

“It can happen again?” I asked, a whimper sneaking out into my voice.

“You’ll be all right, Bulbasaur,” Zoroark said. He finally looked a bit empathetic when he saw the fear in my eyes. He set the supplies on a table nearby. “We need to talk about something else for now.”

“All right,” I whispered, terrified talking too loud would cause another attack. I started rubbing my forepaws against each other. “What?”

“About your chest,” Zoroark said. I shrank away a bit to look away, which only made him look more worried. “It’s all right, Bulbasaur. I just need to ask this question.” He softened his voice, finally. It was still weird that he was calling me by my species name, but it was close enough. I nodded, and he patted me on the shoulder. “Were those self-inflicted?”

“What?” I asked. I jerked my head up to look at him with narrowed eyes that quickly shot open. “No—no! I just—,” I looked to the side to think of an answer, certainly worsening my credibility, “—fell.”

“Bulbasaur,” Zoroark said. He still sounded caring, but there was a bit of scolding in his tone, now. “I need you to tell me if you did this to yourself. Okay?”

“I didn’t,” I said. He fixed me with a glare, but that just made me shrink further. “I mean it.”

“All right,” Zoroark said. I couldn’t tell if he really believed me. It sounded more like he was moving on because he’d completed the requirement. I couldn’t decide if that felt relieving or insulting. He turned to the table on the side and picked up another cloth. As he turned around to wet the rag, he looked over his shoulder at me. “I need you to lay on your side again.”

“What?” I asked. I closed my forelegs in front of me and took half a step away. “Why?”

“Those scrapes look pretty bad,” Zoroark said. He wrung the moisture out of the rag and turned back around. Now that I knew what he wanted to do, I couldn’t take my eyes off the rag. “It looks pretty dirty. I don’t want you getting any infections.”

“It’s okay!” I said. I looked desperately up and forced a smile that only made him raise his brow at me. “I washed up after I fell. I’m fine!”

“Bulbasaur,” Zoroark said, that scolding tone taking over completely. I couldn’t tell if he was worried about me or just impatient I was making him do so much work. “I know you’re scared, but this is serious. Some of those go pretty deep, and they don’t even look fresh.” I tried to think up an objection until he narrowed his eyes further in his glare.

With a whimper and a wince, I nodded. I grit my teeth hard enough to feel the pressure in my ears and did as he asked again. He grabbed my left foreleg again, this time gripping it tighter and pushing it back. He made me lean back far enough to start squishing my bulb.

“Hey, that—,” I started to say, cutting myself off with a squeal. He was putting too much pressure on, scrubbing way too hard. “Stop!” I tried to push myself back down, but he held me up with one paw. “That hurts!” He didn’t even look at me as he scrubbed over every inch with enough pressure to agitate the soreness of my chest. I could feel scabs ripping off, some scratches tearing open.

It stung. It stung all over, constantly. Even after he moved on to another area, the skin he left behind only hurt worse with the fresh air brushing against it. “Stop!” I shouted, looking at his face.

Zoroark didn’t seem frustrated at all. He didn’t look apologetic, either. There was no trace of what he was doing to me on his expression at all. The only reaction he had was a flat mouth and disinterested eyes. Even as I begged him to stop, he only looked bored.

I started holding in my screams. It didn’t matter anymore. It was like he couldn’t even hear me.

I whimpered as I clenched my mouth shut again. The pain kept coming, but I couldn’t stop it. I couldn’t even fight him. With how easily he could hold me in position, I doubted I even my vines would help.

Finally, it stopped. A breath of relief puffed out of me with a wheeze. I tried to squeeze my eyes shut to stop the tears, but they wouldn’t. I looked nervously down at him and noticed he was looking at the table. He’d put the rag down to pick up a spray can. I felt a chill at the sight of it that got even worse when I realized he hadn’t let go of my leg.

He wasn’t done.

The moment the spray hit my skin, it started to burn. Slamming my mouth shut didn’t do much to stop the sound of my screaming. All that extra moisture I’d gotten from the chalk rag disappeared with a sudden rush of tears.

Once Zoroark actually started spraying the wounds, it felt so much worse. The general burn turned into an inferno at the slightest scrape, tear, or scratch. Each one ripped a new sob out of my throat, bringing that crawling sensation with it. I was terrified I’d start coughing again, so I tried to hold my breath.

It was hard to do when I couldn’t stop crying. Sudden jets of air kept shooting into my throat, bringing some of that spray with it. It helped to breathe through my nose, but only barely.

The burn was so persistent and intense that I didn’t even notice when he’d stopped spraying me. I only noticed because I peeked an eye open and saw him right up next to my chest, looking me over with a worried eye. I don’t know why, but I brought my hindlegs together.

I felt so exposed.

“It looks like you’ve had a minor allergic reaction to the spray,” Zoroark said. Another sob tore its way out of my throat, and a cough came with it. “It might itch, but that’s all. The skin will be irritated for a bit.”

I didn’t really process what he was saying. All I knew was he was grabbing both forelegs, now. I tried to squirm and resist, but it didn’t stop him at all. He easily lifted me and set the back of my hindlegs underneath me, forcing me to lean back against my bulb. When he let go, I tried to use my forelegs to cover up what I could. I felt so violated, but I couldn’t figure out why.

He looked so disinterested.

“Please stop,” I whimpered.

Zoroark’s ears popped up, and he looked at me. He looked surprised to hear me. “We’re almost done, don’t worry,” he said. He finally offered a comforting smile. It felt like he was making fun of me. “I just need to bandage you up, now.”

“Don’t, I’m okay!” I plead. I brought my vines forward to try and wipe my eyes. Was he ignoring me because I was crying? “Everyone’s going to know about it.”

“I have to,” Zoroark said. He didn’t offer any comfort, didn’t say no one would care, didn’t even offer an alternative solution. All he said was that he had to. Just like the weird conversation earlier. Just like mom. Nothing I said mattered. It just had to happen. He didn’t even seem to notice I was crying. No one had ever ignored that.

I sniffled but tried my best to stop. I couldn’t look at him when I nodded. Maybe it was because I was acting too much like a kid. Just like with breakfast and lunch, I couldn’t expect people to keep treating me like a kid anymore. I needed to start acting my age.

Zoroark was fast with the wrapping, at least. The bandages weren’t any more uncomfortable than the constant, burning pain beneath. I couldn’t help looking down, seeing all the white bandages cover my torso and reach around behind my back. I only noticed I’d been under a sunlamp when I felt the bandages blocking the light.

He tipped me down when he finished the wrap job. The moment my paws hit the bed, I took a few steps back. I looked up in terror to see that same, bored expression. He looked relieved to be done.

“Take a few more minutes to rest,” Zoroark said. As he discarded some of the supplies, I saw a flash of green fall into the trash. It was only a glimpse, but I could tell it was the bandage I’d put on this morning. I didn’t even know he’d taken it off. “You’re about halfway through second period, now.”

“I have to go back?!” I asked. When he jerked his head to the side to look at me, I flinched. “What if I choke again!”

“I can’t help you with that,” Zoroark said. The disinterest sharpened into frustration again. I tried to clench my teeth tighter to keep from whimpering. It didn’t work. “Like I said, you’ll need a doctor to prescribe you an inhaler for your asthma.” He leaned over a counter and started writing on a pink pad. “I’ll send you home with this note to your parents.”

“But,” I whimpered. He turned around and held the note out to me. I glanced down at it, then looked back up at him again. My eyes kept watering, no matter how hard I tried to stop them. “Can I please go home? I’m scared.”

“Bulbasaur,” Zoroark sighed. With the frustration in his voice, I already regretted asking. “You’re doing fine, now.” I was wheezing with every breath. Even though I didn’t know a lot about asthma, I knew that wasn’t normal. It made me want to scream. I kept my mouth shut. “If it happens again, Mr. Fletch will go to find your guardian.” He stared down at me with a look that I knew only wanted agreement.

“Yes sir,” I whispered.

“Good,” Zoroark said with a relieved sigh. “Try not to stay for longer than five minutes. Your bag should still be with your first period teacher.” He set the note on my bed.

No one even brought my stuff with me. I didn’t want to waste any more of his time, though, so I kept silent. The moment he closed the door, I took the note and hopped down from the bed. Even if he told me to rest a bit longer, I didn’t want to risk it.

I didn’t want to annoy him more.

I’d definitely overreacted to the bandages. I thought that everyone would stare at them. They were so bright against my natural green, and they almost covered my body completely. At the time, it seemed obvious that people would keep asking me what happened all day.

By lunch, nobody noticed. Nobody said a word.

I felt so stupid. I’d been so terrified people would notice. I should have been relieved that nobody seemed to care. Instead, even that was enough to upset me.

Same with my wheezing. It was a perfect chance for everyone to make fun of me, but nobody was. I didn’t get a lot of attention from bullies, but it’s not like they’d ever missed a chance to hurt me before. They’d still make fun of my skin condition here and there. Nobody but my family knew how it actually affected me, but knowing what color a bulbasaur was supposed to be was plenty for a bully.

Not today, though. It should’ve been a relief. Instead, I kept thinking back to Zoroark’s bored expression.

Once I made it to the lunch room, I felt a sense of relief. There was plenty sunlight inside to give me the extra energy I needed. The rest of my classes hadn’t had any windows, so I’d been running on fumes all day. Now, I could soak in the sun for a nice forty-five minutes.

I started looking around for Trevor. We didn’t share a lunch period, but I’d been looking around for him any chance I got today. I couldn’t bear the thought that I’d left him behind in those woods.

He wasn’t there, of course. I tried to shake the thought out of my head. If I couldn’t find him by the time school ended, I’d go back to the forest.

That thought terrified me, but I had to. It was my fault. I needed to fix it.

For now, I made it over to my table. “Hey, everyone,” I mumbled. It was a small crowd, but I had a lunch group at least. Though, there was a seat missing on each side of me. I had to come from the other side of school. They never got here after me. “Where are Tepi and Cynda?”

“Huh?” Chandler asked. She turned to look at me, the wax dripping down just enough to make her eyes look tired like always. “Oh, hey Bulba.” I tried to ignore the realization that nobody had reacted to me saying hi. I was probably just talking too quietly. I was so scared of talking loud enough to cause another attack. “I don’t know. You three disappear off somewhere all the time.”

“Yeah, I guess,” I said. That made me look nervously to both empty seats. Did they want to avoid me? They usually met me before school, but I must have missed them because of running late.

I looked up and tried to smile. That was still three friends in front of me. I really needed some friends.

“Hey, check out the bandages!” I said. I was looking this time, which made it that much worse when I saw everyone start at the sound of my voice and turn to look at me in confusion. Did I interrupt someone? I tried to ignore the thought. “I had to go to the nurse today.”

“Yeah, you look like it,” Mal said with a chuckle. He shared a glance with Boolian as they laughed, Chandler keeping herself to chuckles. The litwick was always a bit nicer than the inkay and pumpkaboo on either side of her. I didn’t mind it, though. It was just friendly ribbing, and I’d finally gotten someone to talk to me other than an angry teacher.

“Yeah, I know,” I said. As terrified as I was last night, I finally had a chance to look proud of it. It was as rejuvenating as the sun on my bulb. “That’s because last night was the Harvest Moon.”

“Yeah?” Chandler asked. She barely looked up at me between bites of her lunch. I winced, but tried to keep up a strong face. “What’s that?”

“Huh?” I asked. I’d talked about this for weeks. They’d even started poking fun at me for it. I’d been so excited every day. They had to know about the plans I’d made. After all of that, I couldn’t understand how any of them could possibly have tuned me out for that—

“Bulba, I’m kidding,” Chandler chuckled. The other two chuckled a bit louder in response. “You really made it out without your dad killing you?”

“Yep!” I said. It was fine. It was just a joke. “Like I said, I can move through the house without making a peep.” No one really believed me when I told them, but at least I finally had some evidence. “It’s totally haunted, too!” I hopped up to rest my hindpaws on the table, proudly displaying some of the bandages. “I got these after a ghost slammed me into a tree!”

“Those are my woods, you know,” Boolian said. “I could get an expedition team after you for trespassing.”

“It’s a forest, not woods,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Besides, you’ll have to share it with twenty other inheritors.” I noticed a teacher spotting me out of the corner of my eye, so I quickly dropped back down to my seat. “It’ll be held in commons by the time you graduate.”

“Don’t listen to her,” Mal said. “That’s just one of those crazy things she says.” He winked across to Boolian. “That place’ll be ours.”

“You’re just trying to take my inheritance,” Boolian said, ignoring the wink.

“I already have to sit between you two,” Chandler complained. She glared at both of them, her flame burning a little bit brighter. “Don’t make this worse on me than it already is by sucking face.”

“Come on, Chan,” Boolian teased, immediately faced with a much larger candle-flame. He didn’t even flinch, though I started looking around for any teachers that might notice. “You don’t have to make up a reason like that. Everyone already knows why you wish you were sitting between the girls instead.” He looked up at me with a smirk that turned my stomach. “Bulba looks like she’d be just your type.”

“I told you, I’m not interested in anyone like that,” I grumbled. I didn’t even get a chance to be mad before everyone suddenly stared at me again. He’d brought me up. Why did it look like everyone was surprised to hear me again?

I tried to ignore it, but I couldn’t look anywhere else. I felt their stares boring into me. The longer I looked, the more intense their eyes seemed. They weren’t moving, either, like they were glued onto me. I kept looking between each invasive pair, watching them start looking deeper and deeper.

They started spiraling in on themselves. Just like Zoroark’s in the nurse’s office. This time, the spirals were shooting around. They were looking everywhere else, anywhere that wasn’t at me. They kept getting deeper and deeper, with every new depth bringing sight lines farther and farther away from me. I could almost hear them buzzing with energy, desperately trying to avoid me as if a single look my way would kill them.

A pumpkin seed smacked me in the eye.

“Hey!” I shouted. I rubbed at the sore eye with a vine while glaring at Boolian. “Why’d you do that?”

“You looked crazy,” Boolian said.

“Nuts,” Mal said before I could object. I glared at him, too, but he just raised his tentacles in a shrug.

“Sorry, Bulba,” Chandler said. It looked like her eyes were still glowing for an instant before she looked back down to her food. “You looked like you were trying to see a prophecy or something.”

“I did not,” I mumbled, glancing away. No one else had seen it, then. Before that could terrify me, my friends were quick to help.

“You did,” Boolian said.

“Nuts,” Mal said.

“Not a psycho, but you know,” Chandler said. She offered the very barest of mercies in a barely apologetic smile. “Definitely crazy.”

“I’m not crazy,” I said. I pulled my lunchbox off my bulbpack and dropped it on front of me. Somehow, I’d stopped feeling hungry around third period. I was still going to eat, but I already knew that it’d just make me hungrier. For now, though, it gave me somewhere else to look at while failing to stop thinking about what just happened. “Did no one else see that?”

I glanced up to no response. Everyone was focused on their food. Maybe they hadn’t heard me. I thought about repeating myself, but I didn’t want to be annoying. They probably heard me and just didn’t want to talk about it.

That was fine, though. I had plenty more I could talk about.

“You wouldn’t believe what I saw last night,” I said. Despite my excitement, I made sure to keep my eyes down. I could already feel the surprised confusion staring at me for having the gall to try and talk to them again—no, that was ridiculous. I was imagining it.

“Yeah, I’ve gone camping there a ton,” Boolian said. I almost fell out of my seat in relief. Finally, someone actually responding to what I was saying. “I’ve even seen ferals outside the dungeon there.”

“Don’t you mean victims?” Chandler asked, smirking up at me. Even with a wheeze, it felt like I could breathe again. “They’re all the remains of those poor people who didn’t get their wishes granted, right?”

“Yeah!” I said. It was hard to stay in my seat. I pushed myself as high up as I could with my forelegs, though that hardly made me any taller. It was easy to look proud, though. “I saw them, too!” The horror of the memories was easier to ignore thanks to the excitement. “There was this gross slaking with a bunch of holes all over it—and a gourgeist broke apart on top of me!”

“Oh yeah,” Boolian said. He nodded with half a berry hanging out of his mouth that he quickly swallowed all at once by tilting his head back. I tried not to gag. “One night, I remember it got so dark that I couldn’t even see my own lights.”

“Yeah?” I asked. That didn’t have anything to do with what I said. He’d added to the conversation, at least. I tried to just be happy he was talking back to me, even though he never looked my way.

“Yep,” Boolian said with a nod. He opened his mouth up to lap at one of his fangs, dislodging the skin of an oran before sucking it down. Thanks to my desperation to look anywhere else, I happened to look directly at Mal staring intently at the process.

Guys are so gross.

“Well, get this,” I said. Last night was insane. There was no way he’d be able to keep everyone else’s interest over me. “When I got in there, all the stars, the moon, and even the mountains disappeared from view!” That got them to look up at me, finally. “I lost sight of Trevor, too! So I ran in to save him, only for the forest itself to start swallowing me whole!”

“That’s crazy,” Boolian said. I tried not to be mad at him for talking again. I should’ve been happy he was talking to me at all. “I always used to get crazy dreams when I fall asleep there.”

“It wasn’t a dream!” I barked. He didn’t even look up from his food. Mal didn’t stop looking at him. At least I got half of Chandler’s attention when she wasn’t busy with the last remains of food on her tray. “I don’t even know how I got home last night! I just woke up in the morning, in my room, and my window was open!”

“I would’ve found Trevor,” Boolian said. I tried to glare at him, but he wasn’t looking. I lost my edge and shrank into my seat. “Every time we go camping there, one of the kids gets lost, and I’m the one that always finds them.”

“You’re probably the thing they were running from in the first place,” Chandler said. She got a glare from Boolian and a chuckle from Mal. After all the non-reactions I got, seeing both of them respond to her hurt. “All those stories about how the woods are haunted are probably because of your cousins sharing stories about that time the big stupid pumpkin came and dragged them back to bed time.”

“Come on, don’t be so mean,” Mal growled with a grin. He smirked towards Boolian, showing his teeth. “He used to be just as scared of those woods as them. He’s probably spread his own little stories about it before.”

They kept talking, but I started tuning them out. It didn’t matter what I had to say. They were all just more interested in each other. I could at least get Boolian to reply to me by talking about his stories, but any mention of what happened to me was just another chance for him to talk about himself.

Was I just ungrateful? Selfish? They were having a good enough time without me interrupting. They didn’t need me to keep making it about myself.

It felt like every conversation I’d had today. Mom didn’t care that I was running late, that it was injection day, or even that I said goodbye. Even thinking about Zoroark made me shiver. Every word I said had been a frustrating obstacle in the way of him doing his job. He didn’t even care when I was screaming or notice when I was crying. Now? Half my friends were gone, and the other half didn’t need me there.

I pulled my sandwich out of my lunchbox and thought about what mom had said. She was probably right. I wasn’t a kid anymore. I couldn’t just expect everyone to care about me anymore. I needed to take care of myself.

At least my sandwich would taste good. It was my favorite flavor with enough peanut butter to clog my throat and enough jelly to melt my teeth. It’d be perfect.

I almost managed to smile in excitement until I actually took a bite. I felt my heart break.

It was just like mom made it. Every Friday, she’d make me a peanut butter and jelly because she knew it was my favorite. She’d done it since my first semester. I thought that I’d be able to outdo her by flooding the sandwich with all my favorite ingredients.

Mom already did that. She’d always done that for me. In fact, hers was still better. The only reason I didn’t know she put that much extra in the sandwiches was because she actually put in the effort to mix it all together. She’d mush the jelly into the peanut butter well enough that it all stuck together. Meanwhile, I could already see jelly dripping out the back of my sandwich and into the wrapping.

Mom had always loved me even more than I knew.

Why did I have to grow up?

I needed to go back to the forest. I hadn’t seen Trevor once all day. Even between sixth and seventh period, where we always stopped to meet each other in the hall for a minute, he wasn’t there. I’d looked all around, and he was gone, which could only mean one thing.

He was still there. I’d left him behind.

I didn’t know what to do. If it really was a dungeon, then I needed to tell a team to rescue him, but I couldn’t do that! They wouldn’t take a request from a random middle schooler. I’d have to tell my mom.

She’d tell dad.

As terrifying as it was, and even though I was still so exhausted, I didn’t have any other choice. I’d gotten lucky recently, only getting grounded or having to write a sentence for ten whole pages. For something like this, there was no way it’d be as light a sentence as that. Breaking curfew, sneaking out, possibly even going into a mystery dungeon, all of that combined made it the first time my friends’ jokes about my dad killing me feel like a genuine threat.

He wouldn’t. I knew he wouldn’t, of course. I still didn’t want to risk it.

I could get more chesto berries on the way home. Actually, there was a store that sold chesto drinks! Those might be perfect. I wasn’t allowed to have those, but I was already breaking enough rules as is. If I needed them, I needed them.

Then, as I shoved my way through all the other students, out the school doors and into the sun, I was hit by a miracle.

Trevor. He was right there. I saw him walking over on the exit on the other side of the school’s central area. I’d never seen another phantump in the school, but even if there were more, I could tell by his big, over-sized, orange backpack that it was him.

“Trevor!” I shouted. Thanks to the sun, I had enough energy to sprint towards him. I got a bunch of strange looks, but it didn’t matter. He was safe! He was fine!

Most importantly? I didn’t have to go to those woods tonight.

I was a gasping, wheezing mess by the time I made it to him, but I didn’t care. “Trevor!” I shouted, just a few feet behind him. He jolted up and jerked around to stare at me, and I felt my throat closing up again. He was looking at me with that same look.

“Trevor?” I asked. A few coughs forced their way out, which only made it easier for more to come. “You’re all right! What happened?”

“What are you talking about?” Trevor asked. He glanced nervously around to the small group of people who were staring, which gave me a short break before those same, bewildered eyes stared back at me again.

“Last night!” I said. A couple kids nearby chuckled, but I couldn’t take my eyes out of his. I had to have just caught him at a bad time, I knew it. He was my best friend. I knew he wasn’t looking at me like that. Even as I maintained the most painful eye contact of my life, I knew it was just my imagination. “I lost you in the forest. Where’d you go?”

“Come on, really?” Trevor asked. His eyes narrowed in embarrassment, but they kept that judgmental, angry stare centered on me. “You got lost. I went home.”

“What?” I asked. Even with a whisper, I was still wheezing. “You left me there?”

“What was I supposed to do, Bulby?” Trevor asked. I flinched at that nickname. He should’ve known I didn’t like anyone but mom calling me that. It made my name sound like a boy’s.

Didn’t he know that?

“I looked everywhere for you!” I said. I was too angry to notice his eyes starting to deepen the more I looked. “I tried to save you!” The orange of his eyes hid the subtle, purple glow that started to shine on the outskirts. “I didn’t even get to go home!” By the time they started spinning into spirals, I couldn’t look away. “I got sucked up into a bunch of mud looking for you! I thought I died!”

“Would you calm down?” Trevor shouted. He looked around for a crowd. Even with less than three people paying any attention, he looked furious, the spirals overlayed onto his eyes shaking. He stared directly at me, but the eyes were looking elsewhere. “No wonder people say all that about you.”

“What?” I asked. I could feel his attention draining, dragging me anywhere else. His indifference hurt, but I had trouble noticing the ache in the back of my eyes.

“It’s like you have a crush on me or something,” Trevor said.

“What?” I whimpered. I stepped back in shock, the eyes dragging my concerns away from myself. We’d known each other since we were kids. He was my best friend. I’d told him about how much I hated it when people said I was constantly looking for a relationship with someone. He comforted me when I cried about that, and now he was throwing it right back into my face.

I couldn’t pay attention to how hurt I was. The spiraling eyes gyrated, shooting all around us, focusing anywhere but on me, and I could feel them dragging my thoughts into doing the same. It felt exhausting to pay attention to how I felt. No wonder everyone was so annoyed with me.

“You’re always dragging me places,” Trevor said. He glared at me, but he didn’t see me. I noticed I was crying when I heard a sniffle. “Secluded ones. Trying to scare me, to get me to trust you, it’s weird!”

Staring at the spirals hurt my eyes. Blinking the soreness away sent another stream of tears down my cheeks. I could feel my throat closing up, that crawling sensation tickling at it more with every ragged, tearful breath. Wheezes screeched out at every attempted breath.

“I don’t want to date you,” Trevor said. I wanted to scream. He knew I didn’t want that, but it didn’t matter. Just like everyone else, he didn’t care. He was just saying whatever to get rid of me.

“All right,” I said. The spirals dragged my paws into motion. I stared at the ground as I started to walk away. “Sorry.”

Trevor didn’t say anything back. He walked away in silence. I was in tears, barely able to get a single full breath in, covered in bandages, and nobody stopped to look. Anywhere I looked, I could see those spiral eyes jolting, bursting at the confines of their corneas to keep their focus anywhere else. I tried to close my eyes, but they were still there, so I started running home.

I didn’t have enough air to run. It was perfect. The more darkness blotted out my vision, the less I could see the eyes.

At least Trevor was safe after all.

I came to outside my house. I’d stumbled off the path and into some shrubbery. Even while I started to come back to consciousness, I felt dizzy. My head was so light that the slightest movement made it spin. Deep breaths only brought more wheezes.

I stumbled out of the bushes towards the path again. We didn’t have much of a yard. I wasn’t very far from the front door. I looked around before looking up at the sky. It wasn’t evening yet, but it’d definitely been an hour or two since school ended. I didn’t tell mom where I’d be. She didn’t like it when I ran around without coming home first. At least dad wouldn’t be home yet.

When I made it to the door, I took a breath before pushing it open. My hopes that mom would be out died instantly. She was sitting right there on the couch, watching TV. I took another breath to brace myself.

“Hey, mom,” I said, door shutting behind me. She wasn’t looking yet. I realized I should’ve hidden the bandages outside, but it was too late.

“Hey, Bulby,” mom said. She didn’t take her eyes off the television. Some trubbish was busy throwing ingredients together in a kitchen with a counter titled ‘health code violations’ in the top right ticking steadily up. “Welcome home.”

I flinched. Now, I knew I was in trouble. She only said that when I came home late.

“I’ll be right back,” I mumbled. I put my lunchbox on the counter and went to my room to take off my bulbpack. Before I left, I glanced down at my bandages. I had another chance to hide them. I knew she’d ask why, and then I’d have to tell her that I went to the nurse, and she’d want to know why. I couldn’t really bring myself to care.

I was exhausted. Even with all that extra time in the sun, it didn’t help. I was already in trouble. As much as I didn’t want to tell her how I got hurt, I felt like I needed to talk to her about the nurse. Even if she was mad at me, she’d care, like when I cut myself trying to put a mirror I broke back together.

I plucked the note Zoroark had written me out of my bulbpack and headed to my doom. Despite knowing I was in trouble, it felt nice to see my mom again. She could always make me feel better.

Why was today so awful?

I hopped up next to her on the couch. She kept most of her attention on the TV, but she at least glanced my way and smiled when I shuffled up next to her. I didn’t expect much acknowledgment, so it was nice when she lifted her foreleg to pat my head. I wanted to crawl under her like I did when I was a kid, but she’d never let me do that for a talk like this.

“I’m sorry for getting home late,” I said as fast as I could. It was out there. It was done. Hopefully it sounded genuine. I meant it, but it didn’t always sound like I did.

“You did?” mom asked. I froze in place. She glanced up at the clock while I considered taking a vow of silence for the rest of my life—talking clearly only got me in trouble! “Oh, it’s four.” She chuckled and stretched her back. “I must’ve lost track of time.”

“Sorry,” I said. I didn’t get why she didn’t sound upset with me, but I figured the show just had her in a good mood. She knew the rules, and so did I. Feeling the note in my vine, though, I had a glimmer of hope.

Proof. I could prove it.

“I passed out on the way home,” I said. “I—sorry—I know I’m not supposed to make excuses.” I tried to rub the nerves away with my forelegs, but it didn’t get anywhere. “I know what I did was wrong and that I need to be more careful, but look!” I held the note up to her. “It’s asthma! The nurse says I have it, and I had another attack on the way home.”

“You did?” mom asked. She tilted her head towards me, then looked at the note. She took it with her own vine and squinted as she brought it up to her eyes. Sometimes, she needed me to read for her, but after a few seconds, she nodded. “I’ll call the doctor before I forget.”

The whole couch reformed and creaked under her as she stepped off it. The cushions I was standing on shifted so much I had to stop myself from falling to the side. I watched as she went to the phone.

This was good, at least. She believed me about the asthma. There was still a good chance she’d talk to me after this, though. She was just getting this out of the way.

I shifted nervously in my seat, cringing as I felt the bandages brushing up against the couch. That’s when it hit me. I looked down at them, then over at her. She was too busy squinting at the number pad to look back at me. Still, she’d seen me earlier.

She wasn’t asking about the bandages.

I started to feel my stomach turning. There was no way she hadn’t noticed, was there? She’d been out of it when I got home, though. Maybe she was waiting for me to talk about it? I wasn’t a kid, after all. She didn’t need to ‘kiss my owies beter’ anymore. If they were taken care of and bandaged by someone else, then there wasn’t anything she had to worry about.

Someone on the other end picked up, and I whimpered. For a moment, I wished she would kiss it better.

“Hello, I need to make an appointment for my daughter,” mom said. She had her head pressed into the talking-nook. The speaker was just loud enough that I could hear them on the other side. I know it’s rude to listen in on someone on the phone, but I always thought it was fine when it’s about me.

It was all standard procedure. Name, hatchday, reason for visit, and a few other meaningless questions. We had insurance now, at least. It cost dad a pay cut, but it was the only way I could get hormone treatment.

Right as I started to tune the conversation out, I heard the date.

“Friday would be perfect,” mom said. She didn’t look back at me to confirm like she usually did. She just kept talking. “Four PM, please. I can’t have her missing school.”

“Mom, wait!” I said. I hopped off the couch and ran over. Even that short of a distance was enough to leave me gasping in air and wheezing. I had to stop for a breath before I could continue. “I can’t wait that long!”

“I’ll see you then,” mom said. Click. Silence. She’d hung up. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I can’t wait that long!” I said. At least my stupid throat kept me from getting in trouble for yelling at her. “I passed out twice today!” I couldn’t bring myself to look up at her. I could already see that same expression on everyone else’s face. I couldn’t bear to see mom look at me like that. “I constantly feel like I’m choking to death!”

“It’s the soonest appointment they had,” mom said. I could recognize the tone instantly. It wasn’t emotional, comforting, or any kind of empathetic. It was just a matter of fact. Nothing to be done.

“Then I’m not going to school until then!” I said. I narrowed my eyes and glared up at her.

“Of course you are,” mom said.

“I won’t!” I screamed. She didn’t get a chance to get mad at me for screaming in her face before I had to collapse in a fit of coughs. I panicked, trying desperately to get any breath in. The air heaved its way in and wheezed its way out. I had just enough to stay conscious. “Can’t—,” I fought back a cough while trying to suck in air, “—breathe!”

I felt vines wrap around me and collapsed into them. Even when they rubbed a bit wrong, it didn’t matter. She was holding me. She was carrying me. She cared.

“I’m not letting you skip school, Bulba,” mom said. She plopped me down on the couch. With the extra height, I could look her directly in the eyes. The prospect filled me with dread, but I looked before I could stop myself. “As long as you’re careful, you’ll be fine.”

No spirals. No spiral eyes. They were just her eyes.

“I won’t,” I hissed out. My voice was shot. My throat hurt. Breathing hurt. The air stung my throat as it came in and my lungs ached as they filled. “Please?” I already knew the answer.

“No,” mom said. She was firm, she was certain, and yet, she wasn’t mad. She reached her paw up to brush at my cheek. I realized she’d wiped away a tear when I saw the wet streak on her paw. “I know it’s scary, but your education is important.” She wasn’t mad. I’d screamed at her, and she wasn’t mad. “If you have any trouble, tell your teachers. They’re there to help you.”

She cared. That was why. She cared. She wasn’t mad at me because she cared. She was comforting me. It wasn’t what I wanted to hear, but it was comfort.

Right?

“The nurse can’t do anything,” I said. She’d see reason. I knew she would. “He just confirmed it was asthma.”

“That’s all right,” mom said. I whimpered. The coughs had died down, but I could still only barely get enough air in. “If you rest up tonight, you’ll feel a lot better tomorrow. I’ll tell your trainer to keep the exercises light for the next few days. You won’t have to worry about that period, either.”

It was something. She was acknowledging my concerns. I still had to go to school, but it was something. It was the most attention anyone had given me since Ms. Banette had me pass out in front of class.

Mom wasn’t budging. There was nothing I could do. She was nice, but it was still the same answer. It was still the same treatment everyone else gave me. I couldn’t get out of going to school. She couldn’t make any exceptions for me. She’d watched me almost pass out right in front of her, and she still wanted me to go to school for four more days.

“I keep seeing eyes everywhere,” I said. Mom looked about as surprised as I was before narrowing her eyes, one brow raised. “They’re terrifying. They hurt my eyes too look at, but I can’t look away.”

“You can talk to the doctor about that on Friday, too,” mom said. She tilted her head before smiling slightly. “I’m sure it’s nothing, though.” She raised a paw to pat my head. It was an attempt at comfort. Instead, it felt demeaning. “Saura used to talk about seeing lights, but that stopped after a while.”

It was the same. It was still the same. Her expression would barely change.

“I got home late,” I said.

“I know, Bulba,” mom said. She looked more confused and started looking me over a bit more. “You already told me about that.”

“Then why aren’t you mad?” I asked. I could feel some strength returning. I was tempted to try to stand up, but I knew it wasn’t worth the risk or the effort. “I’m not allowed to go other places after school.”

“You said that you passed out,” mom said.

“I lied,” I lied. She still looked confused. She was listening, but her expression had barely changed. I told her I lied to her, and she didn’t look like she even noticed the confession. “I went to a store and bought a chesto drink to see what it tasted like.”

“Bulba, why would you do that?” mom asked. She wasn’t angry. She was confused. She didn’t seem to know why I was telling her this.

“Because I know I’m not supposed to,” I said. “I knew I could get away with it.”

“Bulba,” mom sighed. Finally, her expression changed. She shook her head with a look back at the television. When she looked back at me, she had an amused smile. “You’re three.” She rubbed at my head again. “I’m not going to be able to control where you go and what you eat all your life.” My eyes stung as her paw fell. “You can start making your own decisions.

It didn’t matter. Nothing did. All of these rules they had in place to keep me safe disappeared overnight, and no one even thought to tell me, and it was all the same. It still felt like the same answer.

“I snuck out last night,” I said. Finally, her smile dimmed. “Me and Trevor went to Pumpkaboo Forest. I made him come. I ate a chesto berry so I could stay awake the whole time, I got lost in a mystery dungeon, and then I drowned in some kind of sludge.”

“You know we told you not to do that,” mom said. I wanted to cry in relief, but I kept waiting, watching. It still didn’t feel right. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt, and nobody would know where you were.”

“I was!” I said. I pushed up and pointed at my bandages with a forepaw. “I got in a fight with a bunch of ferals. I got thrown against a tree. That’s when I started having these asthma attacks!” I stepped closer to the edge of the couch. “I don’t even know how I got home! I couldn’t escape, but I woke up in my room with the window open.”

“Then I hope you know not to do that kind of thing again,” mom said. My heart sank again. I could feel it aching in my chest. “That was incredibly dangerous.”

It was nothing. It was the same. It was exactly the same. She was barely acknowledging it at all. She didn’t look mad. She didn’t say that she was going to tell dad. She didn’t even tell me to go to my room. All she did was tell me what I already knew.

I didn’t know what else to say. I shuffled back into the couch and settled down, resting my chin on my forelegs. She didn’t hesitate before getting back up onto the couch next to me. It deformed under her weight and tilted enough that it could’ve pushed me right up against her, but I didn’t let it. I shuffled a bit further away from her to keep my space.

I tried to hold back my tears, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t keep my crying very quiet, either, especially not when my breathing was already so loud. To my surprise, she picked me up and nestled me underneath her.

It was just what I wanted.

It felt so empty. So did I. I buried my eyes into my arms as the tears came, whimpering with every sob. It hurt to cry, but I couldn’t stop myself, either. She was right there with me, holding me just like she did when I was a kid, and it didn’t change anything. She wouldn’t listen to me or change anything no matter what I did. I’d broken every single rule I could’ve in one night, and she didn’t care. Would dad?

“Do you and dad still care about me?” I asked.

“Bulba,” mom cooed. She bent down to press her chin against the top of my head. “Of course we do.” She squeezed me with a hug, and that was it. It should’ve been comforting. Instead, I felt that mud from last night weighing in my chest.

“Then why aren’t I in trouble?” I asked, shaking my head. Before she could answer, I crawled up out from under her and hopped between her and the TV to glare up at her. “Why aren’t you mad at me?!” Shouting hurt my throat, but I had to prove it. I had to make something change. “Why aren’t I in trouble?! Huh?!”

“No yelling in the house,” mom said. Her words were stern, but her eyes were bored. Just like Zoroark.

“Why not?!” I asked, barely holding back more coughing. “You’re not gonna do anything about it, are you?!” I stomped forward, and she pushed up from her seat.

“Do you want to get in trouble young lady?” mom asked.

“I’m supposed to!” I screamed. “That’s why you do it, right?” It hurt to breathe, it hurt to cry, and it hurt to keep myself from coughing, but I managed to do it somehow. “I only get in trouble because you care, right?!” I stomped forward again, a few coughs slipping out. They only made it harder to breathe. “You said that you care about me, right?!”

“Of course we care about you!” mom said. It was almost working. I was getting a rise out of her. It was progress, but I was too far gone to notice.

“How can you say that?!” I screamed. “I don’t even really get in trouble anymore! You just ground me, make me sleep without dinner, or lock me in my room for the weekend!” She stepped down from the couch, so I stepped out of her way to keep facing her.

“What is all this about, Bulba?” mom asked.

“You’re lying!” I said. My voice was too raw to push out any more screams. “How can you say you still care about me if dad doesn’t hit me anymore?!”

“How dare you?” mom asked.

“What?! That’s what you said!” I sputtered out between coughs. “You said he only hit me because he cares, right?!”

“Go to your room right now!” mom said.

“Really?!” I asked. I couldn’t see her expression anymore. It didn’t matter. “I break every rule I can, risk my life, nearly die in some random forest, and you’re only mad when I say something mean about dad?!”

“Go to your room right now, or I will take you there,” mom said. I started walking, but she kept talking. “I’m going to have a serious talk with your father when he gets home.”

“Good!” I said, spinning around. I tried to hold my ground, but I couldn’t hold back the coughs anymore. I barely made it a few seconds before I lost my balance and dropped to the ground. I couldn’t control it, but it almost felt like one last show of defiance. A hint of comforting panic hit me when mom picked me up with her vines. I could almost mistake them for dad’s skittering tendrils.

I was suddenly in my bed. Mom was right there, watching me. My eyes were still too blurry to make out her expression. I jerked my head to the side to keep from looking at her. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Caring about you,” mom said. She didn’t have a hint of venom or anger in her voice. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“Go away,” I said. Another few coughs came. I tried to shuffle away when I realized she’d put me right in a sunbeam and on top of a plush. I looked down to see that fluffy little rabbit I’d loved since I was a kid. Grabbing her in one arm, I pulled her along as I walked back. When the coughs finished, and mom got up, I finally looked at her. “Maybe dad can show me he cares tonight.”

Mom didn’t react. She kept her same pace out the door and shut it gently behind her.

“Please, please!” I begged. I flailed my forepaws against the ground, sweeping all the leaves out of the way I could. When I hit the dirt, I tried to claw into it to dig a hole. It was just as dark and late as last night, but I’d bothered to bring extra chesto drinks with me in my bulbpack this time. I’d only needed one so far, but I still had two left.

I dug and dug, but nothing happened. The sky was just as blurry as last night, but that was the only similarity this time. No ghosts, no lights, no mud ready to swallow me up.

“Please!” I begged. I collapsed into coughs and tears in the hole I’d dug. I rubbed the tears off on my forelegs, getting dirt all over my face. “Take it back.” I coughed out a few more sobs, but it wasn’t enough to stop me from breathing. “Whatever you did, please. I just want to go back.”

I didn’t hear a word. Not a rustle of leaves, not a break of a branch, not a whistle of wind. The only sound in the air was silence.

I kept my eyes closed. I pressed them up against my forelegs to try and tire them out, but it didn’t work. I couldn’t even fall asleep. The chesto drink was working exactly like I’d wanted it to, keeping me up. I couldn’t even finish this horrible day off with another nightmare.

A few minutes after my sobs ran out, I gave up. I pulled my face up, rubbed some of the dirt off that I could, and stood up. I opened my eyes and saw a blurry figure in front of me.

“Hello?” I asked, too exhausted to be scared. When I blinked my eyes clear, I didn’t trust them. “Trevor?” I tried to rub them, but it didn’t get rid of the illusion. He was floating there, right in front of me, staring down at me. He even looked sad.

“H-hey, Bulba,” Trevor said. It was his voice. It was him. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” I asked. I couldn’t stop looking at him. He wasn’t looking at me like everyone else was, not even like he had earlier today. He could see me, and the sight actually upset him. “Why?”

“Well, because,” Trevor said. He looked nervously away, one stubby arm coming up to scratch at the side of his face. “I’m n-n-not really Trevor.” He glanced at my confusion, then looked away with even more embarrassment. “Not completely.”

“Who are you, then?” I asked. I looked him over to look for any differences. It was hard to tell if any details I saw were actually differences.

“I’m T-t-Trevor’s fortune,” Trevor said. Thanks to the surroundings, I could remember the whirlwind asking me for mine. I cautiously stepped closer and reached out with a vine, feeling him when it touched him. He laughed. “I still have a physical form in the dungeon, Bulba.”

“This is a dungeon?” I asked, looking around again. Even with the sky so weird, it looked so different from the other dungeon that I’d seen. “It’s so weird.”

“That’s because it’s a weird dungeon,” Trevor said. He floated down closer to me. After a whole day of no one looking directly at me unless they absolutely had to, seeing him casually come closer almost made me break down and cry. “You remember how this place grants wishes?” I nodded. He looked nervous. “Well, instead of ferals, this dungeon keeps the versions of pokémon before their wishes were granted.”

“Really?” I asked. Even knowing the fate of my friend, it was hard not to be a bit excited. It was just like I’d read about! Almost, at least. “That’s how it’s haunted? If you get your wish granted, you’re stuck here forever?!”

“Sort of,” Trevor said, looking away with an embarrassed smile. “You don’t get st-s-stuck here, but you leave your remains behind.”

“That’s so cool!” I said. It was impossible for me to hold back my excitement, even with Trevor right there.

“Of course you’d th-think that,” Trevor said.

“What was your wish?!” I asked. I looked up at him with bright, wide eyes. There was just enough light for me to watch his smile crack and turn as he looked away. Even when he was trying to avoid my eyes, it felt like he was acknowledging me. This time, though, I could almost feel where the hesitation was coming from. His eyes were shrouded in guilt.

“The wishes aren’t always c-c-conscious,” Trevor said. He started rubbing his hands over each other. I could see that guilt eating away at him every time one turned over the other. He started shrinking lower to the ground. “T-Trevor, he,” he couldn’t even look at me, “wanted you t-to leave him alone.”

I stared up at him. It took a bit for the words to process. When they did, I still didn’t understand. “What?” I asked.

“He want-ted to stop caring about you without you not-t-ticing,” Trevor said. I still didn’t get it, and he could tell. He barely managed to look at me with a glance, and when he did, he shrank away further.

“I don’t understand,” I said. I could feel a new ache in my chest joining my tired lungs. “We’re best friends.”

“You were,” Trevor said. The distance hurt. He was talking like he had no part in this. I knew there was some difference between them. This wasn’t Trevor, it was his remains, but that distinction didn’t matter. He still looked and sounded like my best friend. “He liked you, too. After all the scary things you made him do, though, he just got sick of it. He wanted to st-stop.”

“I thought you were just scared!” I said. I couldn’t tell if I was angry or sad. It was probably a mix of both, but I didn’t have a chance to sift through it all. “You went along with it! I thought it was fun!” He looked up at me in pity that quieted me down. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“He didn’t know he felt this way, either,” Trevor said. He shrugged, but it looked forced. “He did like you. He didn’t mean to make that wish.”

“That doesn’t make any sense!” I said. I shook my head, staring down at the stupid hole I’d dug. I stepped away from it to glare up at Trevor. “Where’s my wish, then?!” I stomped my leg at him, but all the leaves muted the gesture. “If that was his wish, then why was everyone so mean to me today?!”

“They don’t c-care,” Trevor said. I finally felt the night’s chill on my skin. “He d-didn’t want you to notice. So, everyone had to be the same.” It started to make sense. The pieces came together, sending a chill down my bulb.

“Everyone hates me, now?” I asked, my voice cracking.

“N-no! No!” Trevor said. He floated closer, but I backed away from him with a glare. He winced and looked away. “Nobody hates you. They just don’t care?”

“H-how long?” I asked. I shook my head, trying to find a way to fix this, at least hope for an end. “How long until it goes back to normal?” The sad regret in his eyes that I saw when I looked up only made me more desperate. “It worked! I already won’t bother him! I’m done, the wish was granted!”

“Th-that’s not-t how it works,” Trevor said. “Once it’s granted, a wish can never be reversed.”

“Why not?!” I asked. I was lucky not to get besieged by more coughs.

Trevor shrugged. “It’s j-just how it w-works,” he said. “But—it’s not th-that-t bad!” I stared up at him in open mouth disgust, wiping the comforting smile off his face. It wasn’t enough to stop his approach, though. “People c-c-can still like you. They can even love you!” I shook my head, but he wouldn’t stop. “They just don’t care about you at first. It doesn’t mean they never can!”

“What about my wish?!” I asked. “I was here last night, too! I get a wish!” I stomped forward and looked around to find whoever was in charge of the forest. “I wish everyone loved me! I wish this would stop, I! I!” I stomped my way right into my own hole and fell on my face, crying on impact.

I shook my head and buried my face into my arms. My cheeks were still damp and dirty from last time. My throat was sore as I whispered, “I want it all to go back to normal.”

I didn’t even get a moment of silence. Trevor reached down and took a hold of my left paw. He helped me back up out of the stupid, pointless hole I dug. I looked up at him with tears in my eyes. Seeing his empathetic frown broke me.

He was the version of Trevor who didn’t get his wish granted. He was the only person who would ever care about me again.

He couldn’t do anything.

“Wishes can’t be ungranted,” Trevor said. Another sob wracked through me. “That’s why your wish hasn’t been granted. Your fortune is still inside you, but ever since you came back, all you wanted was for everyone to care about you again, but that’s impossible.”

“I’m just cursed?” I asked.

“It’s not really a curse,” Trevor said. “It’s just the universe getting rewritten.” That was worse. That was so much worse.

It didn’t matter. I realized that this was going to be the rest of my life. Those stares, those thoughtless looks, the complete isolation was all that I could ever have. My best friend accidentally wished we could stop hanging out, and it ruined the rest of my life. I’d be trapped in this hell, constantly aware that I’d be the only one who ever cared about myself, tormented by a world that couldn’t know better.

That’s when the wish came. Just like Trevor, it wasn’t a conscious thought. Wishes never really are. Too much gets lost in translation when you put words to a thought.

All the weight in my lungs started coughing its way up again. The mud crawled its way up my throat, dislodging itself from the walls of my lungs, ripping off from my ribs and dragging every skittering spec of mud along with it as they forced their way out of me.

The leaves rose up all around me. They covered my eyes before I noticed I was sinking again. I didn’t have a chance to fight before I was completely swallowed up again. I didn’t even get all the mud out of my lungs in time to take one last, desperate breath.

It’s been about a month since then. I got to have a body one last time as I walked her back home. She was passed out, but it was a nice farewell.

Now, I’m here.

It’s kinda cool! Grass types already decay pretty fast, but thanks to my skin condition, the total lack of sunlight made my skin fade and wilt a lot faster. My eyes are sunk in, and my lips are cracked, but it looks like that’s about all I get to have. According to Kingsley, “kids” (I’m three, but whatever) don’t really change all that much when they become remains. It’s kinda disappointing, but it’s something.

At least I don’t have to worry about injections anymore. My body’s pretty much in stasis. The worst that’ll ever happen is my voice gets a bit crackly. I’ll never grow up to be a woman, but I’ll always be a girl.

That’s not as disappointing as I’d expect it to. Part of it is just the nature of being remains. You can’t really help but accept the situation. What makes it a bit better, though, is that the forest is the one place where the wishes remain ungranted.

Everyone here still cares about me. Trevor’s still my best friend, and I basically have a whole new family. It’s nice, for the most part.

I still have to deal with the pain of my missing fortune. Everyone does. It’s just how this works.

The worst part is knowing better. The worst part was always going to be facing a new life that was so much crueler than the one I knew. I’d grow up bitter and hurt by a wound that could never heal or even be acknowledged. Zora says that’s just what being marginalized is like, but I still would’ve known people were nicer to me as a kid.

She doesn’t have to worry about that, now. She’ll never know that the whole world changed. If she notices that everyone gets treated differently, it’ll just be a fact of her life. It’s just part of growing up.

She doesn’t know her life was ruined.

I do.