Abandoned PokéDoll

It was her favorite doll. She took it everywhere, clutching it tightly in her small hands. It did everything with her. It went to school, sleepovers, dinners, and even tagged along for baths. The two were inseparable. She even claimed that the first day she became a trainer, she’d still carry it around to remember her childhood. It might have been a bit odd-looking, but that didn’t change anything. She liked that; it made the doll truly unique.
But as the years went on, she found interest in other dolls. It didn’t make sense to junk the old one for new versions. Yet, worn and dirty with age, it was sent away.
It lay in a dumpster, surrounded by trash bags and food wrappers. Not where it belonged. Not at all. Slowly, the arms twitched, fingers clawing into the trash bags. Its eyes were an angry red, the zipper-mouth turning into a furious scowl.
Banette rose from the dumpster, ready to find the little girl who threw it away.
The neighborhood — it hadn’t changed a bit. How much time had passed, anyway? Banette surely couldn’t have been in there that long. It’d find that sweet little girl again and cuddle right back up in her arms.
Trash — what a joke. How could someone throw it away? A favorite should not have been treated in such a way. You always kept your favorite. You never got rid of it. 
Banette's grudge grew stronger as the familiar houses of the block came into view. Her house wasn’t far; there were just a few more to pass by. 
At last, it appeared. The window was open, letting the warm summer breeze pass through. To Banette’s disgust, new dolls littered the floor of her room. Other Pokémon, all new and fresh, not a stain on them and all set perfectly in a row.
Their owner wasn’t so little anymore. It had been a few years. Banette floated over to the calendar. Tomorrow was the girl's tenth birthday. She’d be a trainer tomorrow.
Banette slashed its claws through the calendar. A trainer? No chance.
The slashing continued. Banette cut out all of the dolls “throats”. Stuffing pooled out, their bodies landing on the floor silently.
No, no, this wasn’t enough. The girl would get new dolls, and these ones would end up in the dumpster as well.
There was a simple solution to that, at least.
She barely had a chance to scream. Just a whimpered gurgle as the claws tore through flesh, leaving a clean, long cut down her neck.
The girl would never ever abandon her dolls again.
Category:PokéMon
Category:Historical Archive
Category:Items/Objects