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WAR I;
.............impressions

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It is summer. A gentle breeze wafts through the air carrying with it the sweet aroma of muffins, pastries and pies. I know for a fact these smells flow from the bakery three blocks to my right. Five blocks directly north is the town square, and eight blocks to my left is the city fountain. I sigh. This place has been my home for as long as I can recall. So many years, in fact, that I have begun to lose count. Those who dwell within the city are as much a part of me as I am to them – whether they consciously know it or not.

So who am I? I am blue. No, I’m not depressed – in case you’re wondering. And that isn’t my name, which I plucked from the natural hue of the sky. I literally mean I am the colour blue. I’m fairly short, though I never have to worry about seeing over crowds. I don’t have fur, but I’m never cold. I can’t speak the way others do, but I know every language under the sun. In a sense, I guess I am everything I ever wanted to be. And everything I could ever dream of. I’m a Ditto. A shiny Ditto. And my name is Elijah.

Every now and then I like to observe the humans in their ‘natural habitat’. They tend to keep to the city, as I keep to the forest. But that’s not all the time. Thanks to my ability to transform into, well, anything, I can roam about the city as though I am one of them. And they’re none the wiser. I can speak as they do, walk as they do, laugh as they do. It isn’t just a disguise. Most of the time I wish I weren’t a Ditto. I almost wish I were human. But that is an illusion. I am who I am, and I will always be a Pokemon. The reflection leaves a bitter taste in my mouth.

I shake my head in disgust, as though to ward off unwanted demons that haunt my dreams. Mere thoughts are a regular occurrence these days, and yet I try my hardest not to let them drag me down. I am better than that, I remind myself sternly. There is always a silver lining to every situation, as Anaya says. Anaya. She should be here at any moment. I requested she come today, to meet me at the old oak by the river.

Nervously I draw my left wrist to my face, observing the chrome lining of a watch strapped to it. The edges are rimmed with dents here and there, more often than not from being battered against objects in my haste. A large crack mars the dial surface, which, if I hold to the light, refracts various distorted colours. When I peer closely I can see my face reflected within. Tousled red-brown hair, bright blue eyes, and freckles that I never really liked but the sun seemed fit to gift me with anyway. This is the human persona I choose to associate with others: that of an average ten-year old boy. I observe now the large hand of the watch points upward, to the twelve. The smaller hand has spun toward the two. Two o’clock, if my memory serves correctly. Any moment now and she should be –

“Elijah!” The soft, lilting voice reaches my ears and breaks through my concentration. Hastily dropping my arm I look up to see a young girl approaching, a large grin plastered across her visage. Today she sports a bright red dress, littered with flowers – daisies – and her bronze-tanned hair rests lightly on her shoulders. She is none the wiser. To her I am merely another human boy, running around the streets of the city. I almost feel like crying, breaking down and telling her the truth; today marks the year since we first met. Then I think what could happen if I did such a thing and any ill feeling or guilt I feel is gone, replaced by a hollow pit of self-induced happiness. It’s what I force myself to feel in Anaya’s presence. Because only she knows the real me, even if my outward appearance doesn’t always reflect that.

“Morning!” I greet her with fervour, eager to forget the nonsensical voices squabbling inside my head. Hastily I drop down from the tree branch I am nestled within, bending my knees to break the fall with ease. A practice I am all too familiar with now. I shake the stiffness from my legs. It is almost eerie that I feel more comfortable in my human form than I do as a Ditto. But I don’t allow myself time to dwell on the thought. I draw my eyes up to Anaya’s. A brilliant hazel. “Did you wanna play tag?” One of our regular games. I smile to myself and raise a hand to my face to hide it. I almost always win. Anaya knows this and shakes her head obstinately.

“If you want to play a game, I might as well choose something I can win for once.” I see she is not fooled by my offer. But this doesn’t lessen my excitement one bit. I am glad to have a friend such as her. So instead of coercing her into agreement, as I usually would, I simply smile and shrug.

“If that’s what you want, Princess.”

Anaya huffs at the endearment. I know she doesn’t like such things. But that doesn’t stop me from saying them. She chews the edges of her mouth when she is irritated – a trait I have long since observed. Anaya does so now as she decides my fate. She seems to settle on an idea and points a finger squarely at my chest. “Truth or dare.”

The pit in my stomach drops. Truth or dare is one of the games I try my utmost to avoid. It isn’t as though I don’t want Anaya to know who I really am. I do. But for some reason I hold onto the present as though it is a fleeting phase that may disappear at any given moment. I may very well be right. Things are good now, as they are. Why would I want to change them? Anaya peers at the downcast look on my face and smirks in triumph. She knows as well as I do that I loathe the game. I can see from her expression that she won’t back down, however, and concede grudgingly.

“Okay!” Anaya perks up and lowers her hand, folding her arms to her chest, then seems to realise something is amiss about the situation and quirks an eyebrow. “You’re giving in rather easily today, Elijah. What’s up?”

“Nothing.” I respond with a grin, lifting the sides of my mouth upward. But it is weak. Thankfully, Anaya doesn’t seem to notice.

“If you say so.” The young girl smiles and plonks onto the ground, neatly arranging herself cross-legged and beckoning for me to do the same. I sigh, but comply with her wishes. This will go a lot faster if I just play along. “Do you want to go first, or shall I?” Anaya asks once I’m seated opposite her.

“You first, since you’re so eager.” Anaya shoots me a look of disproval but I ignore it. As she considers her first question I ready myself for all the possible variations. She could start fairly simple: Who are my parents? Why did I transfer into school so late? What do I do in my free time? Or she could aim for the question I dread the most: What’s your deepest, darkest secret? I try to swallow past the lump in my throat. They’re endless. And unnerving. I don’t even bother to consider the ‘dare’ scenario. It horrifies me. Anaya squints in my direction. She has reached a conclusion.

“Since I think it’d be too easy for you to complete a dare, I’ll just skip straight to the mind-numbing truth questions.” She grins and I feel the pit in my stomach widen into a chasm. “I want to know what your worst fear is.”

My worst fear? This isn’t exactly along the lines of what I had been expecting, but I suppose it gives Anaya something to play off – especially for future pranks. I have to think really hard. There are a lot of things I am afraid of, though I loathe to admit it. Arachnids, shadows, being left alone and…what happens when Anaya finds out what I really am. That’s it. That’s my worst fear. And I can’t tell her. I knew it was a mistake to agree to play this game. First question in and I am already regretting my decision. I decide to sidestep around the truth.

“I’m afraid of telling people what my worst fear is.”

Anaya scoffs and shoots a glare in my direction. “That’s it? That’s not even a proper answer!”

“But it’s true! What I’m afraid of most isn’t my actual fear, it’s letting others know what that fear is.” I’m right, and even though Anaya doesn’t approve of my reply, she knows she can’t press me any further. The question is answered.

“Fine, then.” She waves a hand flippantly. “Your turn.”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“What kind of question is that?”

“What? I like rainbows.” I grin sheepishly and rest my chin in my hands. Anaya pouts.

“I don’t see the point in telling you anyway, you know it’s blue.”

That’s right. Anaya’s favourite colour is blue: the same colour as my actual skin-tone. I think to myself, for the thousandth time, how ironic that is. But my question is simply supposed to dissuade her from actually playing the game. And from the unsettled expression on her face, I assume it’s working. In a movement almost too fluid for my eyes to follow, Anaya rises from the ground and casts a hand in my direction. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

“You don’t want to play anymore?”

Anaya stares daggers, and I narrow an eyebrow in her direction. “What is it? This isn’t going to be like the time you wanted to show me the lake and then pushed me in, is it?”

“No, silly!” Anaya shakes her hand in the air tersely, waiting. “Trust me.”

I frown. It’s as though she’s implying I don’t trust her. But of course I do. In truth, Anaya is the only one I trust. I trust her with everything I have, granted it might not be much. Though for all I trust her, I feel a rising guilt – deep in the pit of my stomach. I’m not human and I never will be. My deepest secret, and regret, Anaya can never know. It is for this very reason I doubt whether I can take her hand now. Whatever time we have together has been the best in my life, but I can’t drag her any further into this. My mistakes are my own. Anaya doesn’t have to suffer because of something childish I’ve done. So I deny myself the pleasure.

I shake my head slowly and lower my eyes to the ground. “Look, I don’t want to play anymore. I’ve had enough fun for the day. Besides, my parents will be wondering where I’ve run off to.” Another lie.

“But this is really good, I promise. We only just started playing.” Anaya’s voice tugs at my insides. An edge has seeped into her tone – just a hint – but it is enough to claw at my hard shell. Sadness. It would be worse if she knew, though. I can’t let her know, whatever the cost. Even if…even if that means losing her friendship.

“I’m sorry, Anaya.” I grin once more and whirl around, however the second my foot is off the ground a hand snaps firmly around my wrist. A tiny, shaking hand. Anaya’s.

“Elijah!” Anaya’s shrill voice pierces my ears and I jump. I cannot believe the sound that comes from her lips. It reverberates throughout my entire body in tandem with my heartbeat – which is rapidly increasing. Her fingers dig into my skin and it hurts. But I don’t stop her. I don’t say a word. Somehow, her hand acts as a lifeline between us. I fear if I step away it will break, and anything I have with Anaya will crumble into dust. I am afraid to tell her the truth, but I am more afraid of what will happen if I don’t.

“Anaya…” I whisper the name meekly, as though all the air has been blown clear of my body. Only a hollow wisp remains. “Anaya, let go. I have to go.”

“No, you have to stay,” she pleads. Anaya’s hands are stronger than I remember, and hold fast to my wrist. When did she get so big? More importantly, how had I not noticed? “I know you’re hiding something, Elijah. You’ve been acting strangely for the past few days, which is why I came today. You refuse to tell me anything about yourself when I ask, and you won’t even invite me for a sleepover. I haven’t seen you at school lately. I don’t even know what your parents look like, or if you have any siblings! And why, when we were playing truth or dare, did you look at me with those eyes? Like the world is about to end?”

“Anaya-”

“Don’t think I didn’t see!” she practically shouts toward me. “You’re hiding something, and I want you to tell me what it is right now. Or…” She trails off and bites her lip before chewing the inside of her cheek. “Or I won’t be your friend anymore.”

The words hit me like a gale-force wind. Anaya releases her grip on my arm and I stumble back into a tree root, toppling to the ground with a thump. Subconsciously I run a hand through my hair and wince, before drawing the limb in front of my vision. My eyes meet the silver watch on my left wrist. It was a present Anaya had given to me, long ago. She had said it was her great grandfather’s, passed down through the generations. When her father died she presented it to me stating that a member of her family should always wear this watch; that it brings good luck to those who do. I feel sick. Bile rises in my throat but somehow I keep it down. This watch shouldn’t have ever been mine. It doesn’t belong to me.

My mind is numb as I rip the chain-links from my arm almost savagely, tearing the clasp open. With it I release my disguise, abandoning the human form I have donned for so many years. I can feel my limbs receding, a light-blue pallor returning to my body. My surroundings grow larger by the second. In a moment the transformation is over, and Anaya stands before me, taller than I have ever seen her. With wide eyes she peers down at me in what is no doubt hostile shock.

I close my own and wait for the inevitable end. She will not want my friendship now. Not when she knows who I truly am. The ten-year old boy she thought she knew is long gone, replaced by a round-blue blob. Surely I am nothing to her, if I ever was. Deceit will be my undoing, and the punishment is probably well within what I deserve.

“Elijah, you’re a…Pokemon? How could you…?” Anaya’s tone wavers with the sorrow of a heart that has just been crushed. Though I cannot reply to her in this state, I shake my head slowly from side-to-side, indicating repentance. I never wanted this. All I ever wanted was Anaya’s friendship, from the very first day I saw her. And I realise now, as my breaths come in ragged gasps, and my lungs tighten, that I should never have lied to her. From the beginning I should have been honest. With both her and myself. So I resign myself to this fate, casting a metal shell around my mentality once more. And then…it shatters.

My body is warm. Skin slithers its way around it, tugging it toward the sun. No, this is not the sun – it is Anaya. And I am astonished. Why would she care now, after the deceit and harm I have caused? Tears well within my eyes as I feel Anaya’s breath upon me – warm and secure. She presses her head into my body and I allow it to cushion her. A muffled voice sounds from within.

“I may not understand, Elijah. I might never understand. What you’ve done hurts more than you could ever know.” She withdraws and meets my gaze. Her face is red and puffy with the effort of crying. With her right hand she clutches her late father’s watch and fingers the surface fondly. “When I said that day this watch belongs to you now, I wasn’t lying. No matter who you are, or where you come from, you’ll always be a part of my family, Elijah. Why don’t you see that?”

I…what? She presses the watch into my body and fastens the clasp around one of my hand-like limbs. I am too astounded to move – I can only blink. Anaya, whom I was so sure would forsake me, has forgiven me. For all the hurt and treachery I have caused, she still considers me as part of her life. How can that be? Then I see it, as she tugs her lips upward into a meek smile, dashing the tears from her eyes with the heel of a palm. She is still so young, a mere human girl. And yet she retains the innocence of a child that adults seem to forsake. Anaya is able to see past outward appearances and forgive such deception because she is so pure. Regardless of who I happen to be, Anaya cares for me as me. This thought, above all others, brings me to tears.

Allowing the familiar fuzziness of transformation to overcome me once more, I am suddenly the human boy that Anaya knows so well. She stumbles back at the abrupt alteration and I throw my arms around her, blinking fresh tears into her milky skin. I breathe in her scent – wild flowers – and commit it to memory. “Thank you, Anaya. You’re my best friend. I was so stupid to think otherwise. And though this may never be enough, I’m sorry. I should have trusted you.” And then I laugh, overwhelmed by one too many emotions for my brain to fully process.

I feel Anaya wrap her hands in my shirt. “Do you remember the day we met, Elijah? It was an unusually cold winter, and raining. I was standing under this very same tree – soaked to the skin – and you came and offered me your jacket. To this day I remember it clearly, down to the last freckle on your face.” She taps my cheek with a finger lightly. “And do you know why? Because my first impression of you was a boy who was kind enough to forsake his own wellbeing for that of another.” Anaya pauses to consider something. “You may not always be that same boy I remember, but the kindness you showed me that day I will never forget. It isn’t your outward appearance I love, Elijah. It’s what inside that counts most. I only wish you had been honest with me from the beginning.”

I tug my lips into a genuine smile and grin toward Anaya, lifting my left wrist to the sun, and refracting the light within the watch once more. The beams touch the dark grey clouds above, causing them to assume a silvery hue. The silver lining. “Well, then, I suppose first impressions really do count.”

“Ditto,” Anaya replies with a smirk etched to her face.