The King
by Freedom Fighter Abra

"I can't believe I lost again! It's all your fault! I don't even want to own such a weak pokémon!" my master threw my pokéball to the ground.
It hit and dust flew up, making it harder to see him walk away.
I can't believe he did that. Why even bother catching me if you think I'm too weak?
No pokémon are weak if they're trained well. I live by that saying.
My master obviously doesn't. He doesn't even care about training me or his other pokémon. All he cares about is winning. That's why he abandoned me.
If he had given me a chance, I could have won. I could have made him proud. I could have gotten the one thing I wanted most. His trust.
But I am young. I don't have much experience. I don't know any strong moves. But I could have gotten more experience, learned powerful attacks.
If I had been given a chance.
I shouldn't say that, I did get a chance.
Sort of.
It wasn't a fair chance though. I had no chance.
I was up against a Gyarados. It was at a high level, I remember its trainer saying so.
I lost.
I hadn't even felt like attacking. Or even trying. It had what I wanted.
A trainer who appreciated it. Who trained it. Who gave it a chance. Who, when it lost, didn't get rid of it.
The dust settled and my master was gone.
I swam off, away from the shore, away from the humans, away from everything except for my thoughts.
I was jealous of the Gyarados. But I knew what it was originally. I knew what it was before it became that powerful, vicious pokémon.
It was the king.
It was weak.
It had bones and scales.
It was a Magikarp.
It was just like me.

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