The encounter with the Pidgey impressed the boy, but back at home I was never more than six feet away from a Pidgey, so this was commonplace for me. He pressed the pokedex for information about the Pidgey, but it didn't tell me anything I didn't already know.
“Pikachu, go get it!” he commanded.
What do you mean? I thought. That Pidgey hasn’t done anything to me. I refused.
“Aren’t you ever gonna listen to me?”
“But why not?”. Rather than answer him, I decided to run and climb the nearest tree, because that was easier than addressing my mixed emotions towards this boy. He’d finally had enough.
“Okay I get the message, I don’t want your help, or need it!” This surprised me. For the first time since he had taken me hostage, the boy was acting belligerent towards me. Finally, his true colours are showing. “I can get that thing, all by myself!” He diverted his attention to the Pidgey. “Enjoy your last moments of freedom, because you’re mine!”.
See how heartless he is? I told myself. He’s just like the rest of them, ripping us from our homes, and for what? For entertainment? Sport? You were right all along to distrust him.
He threw the poke ball at the Pidgey, and the ball ingested Pidgey with ease, just like it did to me a few days ago. The Pidgey struggled inside the ball, and just when it seemed as if all hope was lost, the Pidgey escaped and wandered into the tall grass. This was a really pleasant surprise. Back at home, we would very rarely hear about pokemon escaping from the balls of death. That Pidgey is a hero.
The boy on the other hand, looked ashamed. “I blew it,” he said, under his breath.
This whole scene had lifted my spirits. I was suddenly very patriotic, and proud to be a Pokemon. I started to laugh, and couldn’t stop.