Insomnia

Shayna tossed and turned, her mind still trying to grasp the reasons behind her parents’ refusal to speak of their history. Golden light shown under her door, giving her some visibility in the otherwise soft blackness of night. She tossed back the covers and tiptoed to the door, peering around the corner, listening to her parents’ soft, muted voices as they talked about their day – perhaps, they talked about her. She couldn’t be too sure.

Sitting there on the floor, she studied her body. What were they, exactly? Once, she’d heard a classmate make a veiled reference to a mythical Pokémon, a bird of fire who lived on a mountaintop at the far edges of the world. She’d come around the corner to find the conversation grind to a halting stop and their eyes suddenly flicker to the ground, studying the dirt of the playground.

Shayna had never seen Pokémon, other than on the communal television in the village commons, or during history and social studies. Trainers and their partners rarely came to these isolated parts, where few wild Pokemon called home. Some of the older children left the village to start their own journeys, with the hopes of attaining the title of “master” in the Pokémon Leagues. But a master of what? Certainly not of the creatures who possessed such fantastic powers?

She sighed, staring at her long legs: they were white up to her hips and from her ankles down, covered in black scales. The villagers didn’t have legs like these; they had flat feet and walked that way, not on their toes like she and her parents did. Nor did they have a spray of golden feathers coming from the base of their spines, which made getting new clothes a particularly difficult chore. Well, that and the wings that burst from her shoulders, their red-white-green downy coverlets a hassle to get through even the most giving of holes in her blouses and turtlenecks. There were reasons why her mother went backless, and her father often wore no shirt at all.

I’m different, but no one will tell me why, she thought morosely. No one will speak of it.

She got up and wandered over to her dresser mirror, peering through the shadows at her face. No need of a mask on Halloween, she had a natural one ringing each ruby eye with a curlicue of onyx feathers. No need for a necklace, either, for a ring of green covered her throat. With a sigh of frustration and a fervor borne of desperation to be known, she turned around and ran for her bookshelf. There must be something among the children’s tales and adult readers that would give her clues to her existence.

Being so very bright, her shelf spanned from floor to ceiling, complete with a little stool built by her father so that she could reach the higher tiers. Sleep tugged at the edges of her mind, but she shook it off, a more important task before her.

An hour, than two … it was past midnight before she found the slim volume, wedged between two old primers. With shaking fingers, she edged up to the light still pouring from the living room and spread it open on the floor. It was a small compendium of all Pokémon in the Hoenn and Kanto regions. She flipped to the front, noting the date – a little obsolete, but hopefully it contained her answers. She flipped past the basic Pokémon that the village children always clamored about going out with: Charmander, Cyndaquil, Torchic; Squirtle, Tododile, Mudkip; Bulbasaur, Chikorita, Treeko. Her eyes roved over the time-dimmed color pictures, looking, searching. Something told her that her answers were here, but where? The thought that she was related, in whatever part, to these animals somewhat revolted her, but if she found the truth, she couldn’t deny it.

Determination batted sleep away as her lids began to slide over her eyes. She had to find it! Just when she was about to give up hope, she came to the last page, boldly lit with the letters: LEGENDARIES. And there, her eyes widened – a red bird with a flaming crest and wings, a sky-blue winged one with impossibly red eyes, a sun-golden creature whose feathers stuck out all over its body like a pincushion. Memory tugged at her consciousness, a vague wisp of dream …

Someone had come to their door; she was playing on the floor with colored blocks. Her parents had sounded anxious, nervous. The stranger had arrived under the cover of darkness, his body swathed in equal blackness. Her father had talked with the cloaked one, his voice low and fast. The creature had gestured all around him, angry words spilling out and down, frightening her. Her mother had chastised their guest and scooped her up for bed.

Shayna shook her head, turned the page. What she saw blew her away – herself, splattered in lurid red-green-white against the brownish page. Ho-oh: sacred bird of fire.

Ho-oh.

Pokémon.

They were Pokémon?

Fear clutched at her chest and she struggled to breathe. Backing away from the book, she ran once more to the mirror. Her face, her hair, her body … humanlike, feathered, beaked, winged.

Ho-oh.

They couldn’t deny her, now that she had the proof of what they were in her possession. Shayna paused to grab the book and wrenched open door in time to hear her mother scream and her world collapse.