Essay about Personal Narrative: Pokemon Playing At Home

After school, my best friend Marc and I we found ourselves at home to listen to the episode of Pokemon playing at 3:30. We always went to my house because her mother was depressed. My mother was tired of always having at home and so after the episode is going to play out. Playing outside was rather playing game-boy advance under the trees in my yard! I had Fire Red and Leaf Green him, the brother Marc had erased his game so we enjoyed making special team or finding secrets with his game instead of collecting badges.

That day he was proud of his team showed me that he had prepared the night before, he had told me about all day! pokemon his team was the Pikachu! He explained that AC had taken her two hours to catch them in the forest near Pallet Town. A few minute later, going with his team confront Misty Pikachu it was attacked by a Pikachu in the tall grass. But it was a strange Pikachu, he had demonic eyes and bloody tail. Just seeing him we knew that it was not normal, so I ran inside to get a camera of my father. I’m back with the camera started 5 minutes later and Marc always expect, he had not responded to the attack of demonic Pikachu to let me take his picture. So I took the photo you can see below.

Then I tell him to attack that damn Pikachu but he does not want he’s afraid of what will happen. I reassured him as best I can, but he does not move he said that the mad Pikachu wants to punish using Pikachu to fight and he wants to hurt the drag and not pokemon. This is so that monent off the game-boy and rises. I ben mouth, it just erased the evidence of our discovery! Fortunately I have the picture of the battle, but at that moment | push him and he cries … after he goes home crying. The next day, I feel bad and tries to talk to him at school but he ignores me.

This is the first time we staggered like that! At recess I seek to play ball as usual but it is under a tree and playing his game of Pokemon. I apologize and told me that everything is okay, but he did not want to play with me. That evening, it does not come to listen to the TV at home and I play alone at Game boy. During the next two weeks the same thing days every repeat, he does not want to play with me and isolates EVERY day. I find flat play alone and I play soccer with friends in another place to continue my part of Fire Red.

I had almost forgotten the story but the evil pikachu but haunted nights and sometimes | wondered if this was not what had changed the behavior of my friends. One day Marc was away, my friend Jessica came to see me at my locker after school, she said she had found my gameboy floor. I knew it was that of Mark because I recognized the stickers stuck on pikachu he had the week before. I told him it was not mine but she replied that I lived near his home and that I could give myself. I accepted. Walking to Marc I wanted to look at where it was made in his game. He was returned to Fuschia city and always had his team of Pikachu.

That’s when I connectai on Bill’s computer to see all his Pokemon I jumped: 14 boxes were full, there were 420 Pikachu !!! In the space of three weeks Mark had captured all these Pikachu, I felt like crying … I guess he was trying desperately diabolical pilachu. I arrived outside his house and I put the Game Boy. I rang home and his mother opened the door in a robe de chambre and a cigarette on the edge of the mouth. She looked tired and looked at me disdainfully. I told him I’d take his game to his son and told me I just had to go bring him myself in his room.

I tried to make conversation and I asked him why Mark did not come to school that day, she said she had not saw it up. That’s when I was really mad seus it, it was not surprising that Mark was acting weird. I opened the door of his room. Marc was on his bed, naked and he drew on his skin with a yellow wax pencil. He was trying somehow to draw a Pikachu on his belly. All over the wall through, there were drawings of Pikachu and EVERY objects of his room had at least a picture of what pokemon yellow. When he saw me, Marc looked at me with a smile moron. He said: Pika pika … Chuuuuu! And he grimaced trying to be cute.

I ran to tell his mother to go to her room. She burst into tears and told me to leave. I stood outside his house to see what was going to spend it. His mother took him in his arms and emmenat in the car. When Marc saw me on the other side of the street, he blew in the glass to make mist and drew a Pikachu. saw the car disappear down the street. I told this story to my parents but they have never believed me and the school has met me and told me to stop using the false rumor about Mark. I never saw him again, he should be in a mental institute. No one has ever believed me and a month later his mother moved.