Beyond The Spectrum: Chapter 4 Part 1: The day my dream vanished(only for a friendship to ascend higher)
Salutations fellow furries and I have returned for another chapter. :)
So for this one, I am doing a two part chapter and I will get on the second one as soon as possible; right now I am just hoping that this one will do as good as the others.
Please read the following below!
Disclaimer: The following content in this chapter does not reflect any views I have on the actual event that is centered around this chapter. This chapter will be of some offense to some viewers and if you are offended at the content, I sincerely apologize and I will do what ever it takes to regain anyone's respect for me. I will say it now that I am not a racist and I do not believe in racial inferiority what so ever.
Disclaimer: I do not own any of Pokemon; all Pokemon or any references to Pokemon in general are reserved to Satoshi Tajiri and any race or Religion mentioned in this fic do not reflect on any of the views of the actual Faith or Culture surrounded by that race.
That said, please enjoy at your own risk my friends; enjoy. :)
Have you ever had a dream you would accomplish only to have it crash and burn in front of your eyes? I have, only that personification was actually portrayed for me.
On Tuesday, September 11, 2001 my world, my dreams, and my childhood all was destroyed as soon as the first plane struck.
I was six years old at the time, watching the progressing chaos ensue on my Magnavox TV set and all I could think of was why; why would anyone want to attack America, let alone anybody for that matter? Seeing those people throw their lives out the window, those Pokémon helplessly wounded & those towers, the one thing I was determined to climb, crumble with that determination in pieces. Mama got so paranoid because of the attacks that she didn't let me, Jeremy or Konrad go to school when she saw the first plane collide into the North Tower and she made the whole family pray for God to send the lives lost to heaven.
After which, my Father came in with his significant "God made this Joe" cup of Coffee and as he looked at TV, he began to laugh in a knowing manner that made the whole situation ironic. He sighed afterwards, his beady eyes consolidating wittiness. "I warned them they would do this but did they listen?" He took a sip of his steaming, strong coffee before continuing. "Nope, they never do nor do they wish to."
Mama had gotten worried, her blue eyes showing paranoia & uncertain. "Wha-What do you mean honey?" She asked forcibly nonchalant.
My Father growled very lowly. "I mean I know who caused this mess in the first place."
That's when I got confused; how could anyone know about an attack on the U.S. before it even happened and how could he know who was at fault about it? It was mind blowing thinking about it now but it certainly was a paradigm shift back in my Six year old mind. I needed to know after all. "Who did it Dad?" I almost squeaked with some fear etched into my voice.
My Father, with his grim and despicable face began to snicker like a Xatu during a Thunderstorm. "Those damn Arabs caused this!" He grunted as we all sat in front on the Television; the concrete inferno known as The North Tower on the TV screen. "I knew they couldn't be trusted before and I know we can't trust them today." His eyes narrowed as he looked at Me, Jeremy & Konrad, those same eyes become slightly sympathetic at our appearance. "Now you listen up; All of you three of you. You should never trust any of them Arabs," His voice emphasizing the last word in his sentence. "They believe that the glory of our Lord should cease to exist so the land God has blessed us to live in is destroyed with us with it!"
I felt my eyes widen like a Togepi battling a Blaziken as he said: "And if you trust them, you ain't a good Christian."
Konrad, who was then 11 at the time, was taken aback at his words. "I am a good Christian dad!" He put his hands over his heart as I saw his eyes become as beady as our Watchhog father. "I will never trust them Arabs, I promise!"
At the moment of that statement, we were televising witnesses to the next plane crashing into the South Tower and it wasn't pretty; the flares of red and fire rose up to the contrasting blue sky as many of the Pidoves, Zubats and Wingulls in the air scattered upon the decibels.
Mama eyes were the same connotation as her shriek. "Oh my God!" She held me to her chest as her began to sob hysterically.
Konrad began to growl slightly at my mother's position. "Dad, the Arabs made Mama cry; I will never let them destroy the name of God."
That's when Mama lost her cool. She eyed Konrad piercingly and shouted: "Konrad Matthew Carrick, you take that back right now! You are never to discourage any race because of any wrongdoings; you are disgracing God's name by doing that!"
Konrad's mouth dropped like a Lickitung with Cactus prickles in its mouth but managed to gulp. In Mama's hysteria, she turned to my Father. "Clay don't say things like that, it's no wonder my Father has a hard time with you because you spew out this racist shit everywhere!"
Hearing my Mother curse was as scary as a smile from a Banette: you never know what to expect when it does the unexpected and at that moment, my Mother cussing was the unexpected of what I did not expect.
She pulled me closer as she continued. "It's the stuff like this causes you to get in fights with everyone. It's the reason nobody in my family--let alone yours--will spend time with you because of your antics. Now I know why your brother can't get along with you!"
That's when I realized the worst of this situation. "Mama," I whispered louder than I intended. "Uncle Arthur is in The South Tower."
I saw Jeremy, to the right of me sob a bit when I said that. He and Uncle Arthur were extremely close, closer than me from my viewpoint; Uncle Arthur always gave him the most attention out of all of us and Jeremy could never ask any less from him.
As Jeremy wiped his tears, the phone rang next to him; he quickly regained his cool to answer it, only for him to stiffen as awaited response. He handed my Father the phone as he quivered in fear: "It's Uncle Arthur."
Mama sobbed even more as I put my arms around her; surprisingly she started to calm down as she looked into my blue eyes, her hands tracing my hair as she looked at my Father's response as Jeremy handed the phone.
He was emotionless for five minutes in which led him to turn away in disgust, sipping the coffee that now seemed bittersweet like the soul I saw him possess. Mama just sobbed even worse, to a point where she was beyond a bloody wreck.
Jeremy handed the phone to mom, tears streaming down his now grieving face. "He wants to talk to you Mama."
Mama regained her cool, listening to what would be her last time he ever heard Uncle Arthur's voice. Soon he talked to Jeremy for a while, to Konrad for only a couple of minutes, which didn't surprise me considering the many ways Uncle Arthur would show very little support for my brother. Whether it was birthday's, Christmas's, 4th of July's or Easter's, Uncle Arthur would give the worst present or the least attention out the entire Carrick Caravan. Even though I was young at the time, I was beginning to see the actual nature of my brother's character and it wasn't pretty. He was as bitter as a peach a Grimer touched and he was proud of that.
When it was my turn to talk to him, I wasn't sure what to say; all I knew was that this moment would be the last time I would ever talk to my Uncle Arthur and I had no idea what to say but after five long seconds, all I could say was: "Hello."
I heard some coughing in the background, the sound of an uncontrollable fire burning along with it as well as the occasional scream but in the midst of that, I heard a distinctive cough that sounded like:
"Uncle Arthur!" I instantly shouted.
I heard him wheeze out for air. "R..Rock?!"
"Uncle Arthur, it's me!" I quickly replied before I could lose his scruffy southern accent.
It would be enough for him to stay on the line. "Rock," he coughed suddenly before continuing. "Rock, you need to listen up; your Uncle Arthur has been able to get out of tight situations but he ain't getting out of this tight spot."
I began to get frantic at his words. He would always get out of any bad situation; he would get out of a bad negotiation, a bad confrontation between him and a Gyarados, a bad fight between his own brother and something in his voice that became suddenly made me aware that he wouldn't make it.
"Rock," He continued. "I need you to know that even if I die, that still does not give you the excuse to take your anger out on anyone, nor anything because of this. I know who caused this and I will not take a grudge to my grave because of it; I'm going to relive the happiness of my life with what's left of my family." I heard him sob a little on the other side of the line. "It's the times like these that make us realize how grateful we are to live on this planet with the people we love, the cultures that surround us and the Pokémon that live with us and I want you to never let your anger get the best of you! Don't be like your father and your brother; you'll get nowhere without the help from Pokémon and Anthros Rock. They are wonderful creatures and they can do amazing things for this world." He took a deep big sigh that sounded like it hurt. "And I want you to show the world the potential these two show; this is my final wish from you. If you want to remember me, than help the world embrace the beauty these two possess." His voice, strained from the smoke, still spoke the confidence he would always have. "You got it boy?"
I wasn't going to say no to that. "Yes! Yes I promise Uncle Arth--"
I heard a loud groan on the other line, a groan that sounded like a herd of Onix's cringing in a sea of despair. A groan that only made Uncle Arthur chuckle so darkly that it made me think that someone else was talking.
I was getting more worried at each passing minute. "Uncle, what's happening?!"
The groaning got louder at each passing second. "No matter who or what tumbles over you, never let dreams fall, Rock; never let your dreams fall!" I got the chills when he shouted: "Lord, I'm coming for ya!"
The phone immediately got cut off as he said that, the groaning suddenly keeling over all at once. I turned over to find Mama holding Jeremy, both shrieking cries for mercy; Jeremy was more of a moral wreck than I have ever seen him and I knew he would be a changed person after this day.
I couldn't say the same for Konrad, who stood proudly right by my Father, who just chuckled, stroking Konrad's hair protectively as he sipped his unsoulful beverage. "Lord," he said, "Have mercy for the lives of all the good people today."
At his words, I turned to the TV, only to find grim reality streaking down my face as I saw the South Tower collapse in front of my eyes.
Once again, I am truly sorry to anyone who is offended by the content of this chapter. I assume that this chapter will be very controversal and I am willing to accept all accounts made. If you refuse to read my fic anymore because of this chapter, I understand and I must thank you for all the support you have given me; without you, I wouldn't have had the courage to post this Fic on here. :)