Note: I keep trying to write a good story about Jessie and Arbok, but it never came until now. As you know, I didn’t make up Team Rocket, pokemon, or anything like that. Without further ado, Second Chances, enjoy!

Second Chances

by Charmander_gurl

Sometimes you never realize how much someone means to you until you loose them. I never seem to understand my feelings in that way. I don’t know why. I guess it’s because in some ways, I am two separate people. On one side, I am Jessie, survivor of the streets, the Jessie that survived by trusting no one. On the other side, I’m the real me: Jessie the dreamer, who has always dreamed of being the best pokemon trainer ever. My duplicity annoys myself more than it annoys other people, because most of the time other people only see Jessie the survivor.

But I guess when you’ve been hurt like I have it’s hard to trust again, and that’s why I can’t loose my survivor attitude. I never really bothered to look in the mirror for anything else but my physical appearance. Well, that is until two weeks ago, and the worst night of my life.

I was sitting on my sleeping bag, staring into space. James came over beside me. I like him, I really do, but my duplicity always gets the best of me.

“Jessie,” he asked me, “I want to train my victreebell, but I don’t know how.”

I sighed and rose to my feet. Normally, I would have told him to stop bothering me, but I guess it was fate that made me say, “I’ll use Arbok to show you.” I threw the pokeball, “Arbok! Go!” but all that came out was a crumpled piece of paper. I picked it up and began to read. (This is a translation, of course):

Master, I can’t take be worthless, or be dressed in a dress. I must be free. I hope understand you.

I cried as I read the note. It couldn’t be, but it was, Arbok was gone! He had run away.

“Jessie, what’s wrong?” James cried.

I stomped off into the kitchen. “Leave me alone!” I cried. Tears streamed down my face like an April shower. Arbok had left me! Why? I knew why. It was because I was the worst pokemon trainer in the world that’s why! Arbok was right, I had called him worthless, treated him like my slave, like an object, like he didn’t have feelings! I had broken all my dreams of becoming the best pokemon trainer, because now I was the absolute worst! I was awful. How did I live with myself?

In the real world, there are no second chances. There are no buttons that you can use to rewind, no erasers to erase what you said or did. You could always try to take it back, but people and pokemon aren’t very forgiving. Not that I’d blame Arbok if he never wanted to hear the name Jessie again. If I was in his position, I would have done the same thing.

How could I have been so stupid. Stupid enough to drive my best friend away from me. I sat there and remembered when I had first gotten him. He was only a tiny little ekans, at the pet store with a terrible pokemon disease called, Pokemonous Disastrous Deadlyous. I was an eleven year-old street rat with only a penny in my pocket. I heard screaming from the shop. I rushed in to find out that they were trying to put Ekans to sleep. I stopped them, but they threw both ekans and I out into the street. From that day forth, ekans and I were the best of friends. I slowly nursed him back to health, let him sleep in my arms so it wouldn’t catch the chill. I remembered how he evolved just for me. He saw a side of me that no one else did, the real me and not the harsh, cruel one. This was Arbok, my best pokemon.

Then I remembered when I had very badly sprained my ankle in the middle of the woods. Arbok, then an ekans, would always be behind me, and sometimes stayed wrapped around my leg, like a big purple bandage, so I could walk better. I remembered I taught him to grab on to its tail and roll like a wheel so that it could keep up with me while I rode my bike. I remembered how he would always listen to me, like my own private journal. He would really listen, too, not just fake it. This was Arbok, my best friend.

The best friend that I would never see again. Sure I had lickitung, but lickitung would never be as special to me as Arbok. I cried harder, I felt so helpless. If only Arbok could forgive me, but like I said before, no second chances.

I looked up at the stars in such a way that I hadn’t in a long time. When I was little, Arbok (or Ekans at the time), and I would wish upon a star that I could find the courage to run away. And thank goodness that I found the courage. If I hadn’t, I’d never have run away, never had met James, never would have been where I was today. In some ways, I think it was Ekans who gave me the courage. He showed me that I could be someone, by listening to me when no one else would. I remembered how alike we were, both of us sad, lonely, scared. But then I got lost. Lost in my survival attitude, as I call it. It’s been many times when I’ve done the opposite of what I wanted to do. I’ve hit James, called Arbok worthless, and been like such a witch. Why? Why do I have to be two people? Why do I have to be so horrible?

Another teardrop fell from my eye. I followed it down and saw it land on something purple.

“Arbok?” I whispered.

“Charbok!” It said, greeting me.

I look behind me and notice that the kitchen window is open. He must have slithered in from there. Arbok put its head in my lap. Since it evolved, it’s gotten so big that it can’t curl up in my lap anymore. It can only fit its head. But then, I was too happy for words.

“You…you…came back!” I cried tears of joy.

“Charbok! Charboka, charbok!”

I’m sorry, arbok,” I took a deep breath and began, “I really didn’t mean to. You, see, oh forget it. There’s just no excuse. I’ve been the worst pokemon trainer in the world. I’ve been horrible to you, really. Look, I wouldn’t blame you if you slithered right back out that window!”

Arbok looked at me and gave a little snake sigh. Then he told me the most beautiful thing that I ever heard in my life, “Charbok, arbok! Charboka, charbok, arbok, charboka!”

I suppose you don’t know what that means. I don’t know why I can understand Arbok. Sixth sense, I guess. But anyway, that means, “Jessie, you saved my life when I was little. You were my best friend. Do you think I could forget that? I know that sometimes you don’t mean what you say, I just wish that the real you could shine through again.”

I cried again, but this time they were tears of joy. And Arbok and I fell asleep in that way, in the kitchen, me in the chair and arbok with his head on my lap.

Yeah, in life there are no second chance, no rewind buttons, or erasers, but a true friend will understand.

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