Nothing

By TwistedReality

Author's Note I don't know why I wrote this. It's just a short ficlet I wrote when I was bored. Oh, and I don't own pokemon, so don't even ask, okay?

There is nothing.

Nothing. The word seemed so empty, so simple, but complex. How could I possibly understand the meaning of nothing when I always had everything? I was always surrounded by my friends. I had everything I could possibly want.

Now the word, Nothing came to mind.

It made sense. My mother was gone. My hometown was gone...everything.

Technically the town was not made up of nothing. There were burnt buildings left over from the destruction of the town, but the ashes of the town meant nothing to me.

They were only represented empty shells of what my life had once been.

Where were the grassy fields? What had happened to the clear blue sky that was red from all the burning?

A hand touched my shoulder, trying to comfort me. I pulled away. I didn't want comfort. I didn't want to feel anything. I wanted emptiness. Anything was better than the sickness I felt in my stomach.

"Ash..." the voice whispered quietly.

"No!" I screamed, turning towards Misty. I was surprised at how scratchy my voice sounded.

Her face withered, then hardened, but she remained silent.

Why couldn't she yell at me like she usually did?! That's what she did when everything was normal. Why couldn't she act like everything was normal?! I didn't want to think about this! I didn't want to see this! Didn't she see that? Didn't she?!

I looked over to Brock, who was staring at the ashes with a look of disbelief and horror. Occasionally he glanced back at me with confused and frantic eyes.

My heart filled with anger. "Explain this!" I wanted to scream at him. He was always able to explain every little thing. Why couldn't he explain this?!

"Ash..." Brock whispered sadly, turning to me.

There was pity in his eyes.

Soon, I felt like everything was crashing down on me at once. My lungs burned with every breath I took. The crackle of flames filled my ears.

All I could think about was Pallet. The school I used to go to, my mother's garden, the kitchen that had always smelt like freshly baked cookies. All of it was ash.

When I started to think of my mother, of Professor Oak, and everyone else that I had grown up with, I didn't want to see them as...as...

I screamed.

I could smell the flames and the smoke, which had formed clouds that bulged as everything became nothing.

Misty and Brock had rushed to me. "Come on, Ash..." Brock whispered, "let's go.."

Misty held her hand out to me to lead me away. "Come on..." she begged. Her voice was a soft whisper. Her hands looked so gentle. I never really thought about her hands before. It was something else to think about.

I turned away from the flames, my hands grasping Misty's.

I didn't look back.

THE END

Please READ/REVIEW. I think this fic is weird...oh well...