Bloodshed Born of Innocence: LeafGreen

I remember it so clearly. My friend Adam was at my house in 4th grade. We were ostensibly playing, but he was playing Pokemon. Parents call that "playing alongside," as opposed to "playing together." All I knew about Pokemon was that there was a handheld Pikachu-themed spinoff game that had TV commercials all the time, and it just looked so girly and virtual-pet-y. I knew nothing of the adventure. The glory. Adam had a Pidgey. He was in Lavender town; he'd just gotten the Poke flute. I will never forget.

I remember the first night that I owned Red version; evolving my Charmander before bedtime, then playing under flashlight until I couldn't keep my eyes open. I was so innocent then. Weren't we all?

The first time I lost a Pokemon that I loved was when Aragorn the Ivysaur fell to a Biker on Cycling Road. Ivysaur could take the poison attacks, no sweat. When the Grimer screeched at him, I wasn't afraid. Would you be? It's just a screaming pile of ooze. Aragorn should have been fine, but the screeching was getting to him, and the Grimer got a lucky critical hit with sludge. Aragorn was no more, slain by our own hubris and a biker's Grimer.

That was my first time accepting the challenge. My first loss was good ol' Pidge the Pidgey, to a wild Pidgey who was somehow faster than her, despite being a lower level. I caught that Pidgey, and it took me a long time to forgive him.

I caught a Sandshrew on my way to Cerulean City, and although his time in my party was brief, I will never forget him. I only meant to train him a little, but my rival blindsided me, and if not for little Sandbag, the whole party would have been lost right then. He defense curled like a champ and chipped away at my rival's party, until the Charmander's ember overcame him. Rest in peace, brave Sandbag.

It was all downhill after I lost my Flareon, precious Lawnmower, in a double battle against a Hitmonlee and a Hitmonchan. It's very hard to defend against both of those at once! I scraped by Koga, but the party shuddered to a halt at Sabrina. We had lost too many friends. Sometimes I think the rest of my Pokemon were all ready to be done then, to be finished with fighting, to be reunited with their lost comrades. We probably could have prepared more, yes, but it didn't feel right. It would have been long and tedious to rebuild before Sabrina. My Pokemon deserved better, so I gave them one last chance at glory. They didn't win the badge, but they won in my heart.

I learned a lot from that first run. I have fond, bittersweet memories of many of those Pokemon. One of the oldest, most faithful veterans of that party is actually still alive today -- after our final defeat, I had Closet the Butterfree patched up and teleported into my White version, where he lives today among my epic collection. He's younger than most of them, but far older in years, for none of them have tasted death.

-Paul