“Pride is all we have now, when we’re left with nothing . . . ” -Simon Collins, Pride

“You’re a jerk, Gary!”

Another encounter with my rival, Ash Ketchem, provides me with another reminder of what everyone thinks and believes me to be.

How many times have I heard someone say that to me? Even my own grandfather believes it, though he’s never said it to me out loud. May says it to me all the time, though she’s my sister and since siblings are always fighting, I’m not sure if that counts. Ash says it repeatedly, never holding back to tell the world who I really am.

Even I believe it . . .

“Loser,” I remark with my trademark smirk. “Your insults are worse than your ability to train pokémon!”

Jealous, I’m jealous of my very rival. He has so much when I have so little, that there isn’t a way I can stop my emotions. Family that encourages him, friends that stick by him no matter the hardships, and pokémon that would do anything for him, even risk their lives to protect his. I don’t even have one of those things.

My only dream that I’ve ever had was to become the greatest pokémon trainer. And for a while I thought I’d actually be able to fulfill that dream until Ash came along with the very same one. Ash had more energy and ambition then I ever had in my entire life, so when he started his journey, he unknowingly left me in the dust.

I laughed cruelly at my false intuition of Ash’s training ability, hiding my true inner thoughts. ‘I’m kidding myself again . . . ’

“You’re kidding yourself, Gary.” ‘Huh?’ “The way you’re training, there’s no way you’ll get any farther in the league.”

My eyebrows knit together in frustration. I ache to reply to his remark with another witty insult, but to my immediate horror my rival has spoken the truth . . .

For a long time I’ve been hiding this fact from myself. I’ve always known that Ash was a better trainer. Yeah, I may have caught more pokémon, or won more badges, but Ash has a bond with his few pokémon, that I’ll never have . . .

“Forget this Ketchem, I’ve got better things to do than stand here and converse with you.” My delay at being able to think of a come back hurts my pride, my only choice now being to leave before it continues to get injured. My pride is an important thing to me. Sometimes I think it’s the only thing that keeps me going . . .

Before I turn away with a sharp jerk and a loud stomp of my feet, his look of triumph is unable to escape my eye. He has won again, and will most likely continue to win. I never had a chance . . .

“You’re a jerk, Gary,” He remarks one last time to my departing back, “plain and simple.”

‘I fully agree, Ash,’ I silently accept, ‘I am a jerk . . . ’

~Sonya