It's... not working the best, I have to admit. I was going to write an entry every Monday, but today's Friday. I procrastinated until today, basically. But I guess, maybe it's better to write one at the end of the week? So everything that happened in the past few days is still fresh in my mind.
Alright, that settles it. I'll update every Friday (or maybe Saturday, if I'm too loaded at work). Remind me to keep updating every week.
Wait a second, let me put it on the calendar. Be right back.
Alright, I'm back. Thank goodness nobody was around to catch me. See, right now I'm sorting through our mail - the lab's mail, not mine personally. It's a boring chore that we have to do every week, with all of us taking turns, and if you slack off or forget it's your turn, well... It's not something you should do often.
And for some reason, we got a lot this week. Half of them aren't even addressed to our lab - they're all supposed to be to some Pokémon treatment lab. And that's definitely not us.
Well, wait a minute. It's kind of us, except we're... broader, I guess? We don't deal with any one scientific area, like biology. I mean, Meta is the only project that has a lot to do with Pokémon, but we definitely aren't a "treatment" lab. Heck, Scholl's the only one here who knows anything about that kind of thing. Most of us here know stuff like biology, engineering, etc.
Back to the point, I guess whoever sent these letters messed up the place addresses. I'm not opening them, in any case - isn't it illegal to open other people's mail? Besides, they look pretty darn important, from the official looking seals and everything. Some of them are even government-type letters - imagine that.
Oh, speaking of the government, the prime minister's alright. (You know, he was injured in last week's attack at his Goldenrod speech.) The newspapers are still blabbering on about it, in addition to proclaiming the end of the world, the battles of the war, the secret behind-the-scenes government cover-ups, etc... as usual. The headlines are practically the same every day: "SLATEPORT CAPTURED," "SLATEPORT LOST," "EVER GRANDE CAPTURED," "EVER GRANDE LOST." Which means they're running out of juicy war material.
God, I hate the press. Always nosing into other people's business, looking to make a quick buck by twisting whatever story they can get their grimy hands on. It makes me sick. There are people fighting to keep the rest of us safe - people dying, sacrificing themselves for their country - and these rats are trying to gamble on their lives and make money off their sacrifices? It's despicable.
What are they even fighting for now? It can't be their country, the country that cheers on all this stupid bloodshed and death, and looks to make a fortune off their rotting corpses. They're probably just fighting for themselves, now - to stay alive in whatever sort of hell they're going through.
And why the hell are we sending our sons and children off to go fight someone else's war? I bet half these kids don't even care for it, and yet they're dying for something that doesn't matter to them. It's horrible. I hate this damn war. I hate what it's doing to our country and our people. I hate how its killing our friends, and our kids. I hate how it's keeping Dad-in-law over in Hoenn, even though he hasn't done anything to be stuck there. I hate seeing my daughter's hopeful face when we talk about her grandfather, when he might not even be coming home for a long, long time. And above all I hate how that young kid across the way - that boy who was always smiling and cracking jokes, carrying around his only sister on his back and helping and being so kind to every damn person he met - went off as soon as he was old enough and ended up getting shot down before he even touched Hoenn soil.
And his parents. Dear God, his parents. I can't even do anything for them. I don't know what to say. How the hell do you console someone who's lost their own flesh and blood for no reason, other than he was in the wrong helicopter? What the hell am I supposed to say to help them?!
I just want it to be over. If there's a God up there, please... just get this damn war over with. I'm begging you.
Sorry, lunch break.
So besides that, not much has been going on, I guess. I tried to send
Haven't gotten a response yet. I'm kinda worried that it didn't even make it to Hoenn, what with the war going on, but... Eh, maybe I'll just email him. I'd rather not - one of Jen's friends said that the government's trying to monitor all emails sent to Hoenn, or something dumb like that - but I guess I'll wait a bit before doing anything.
Matt and I went to the, uh, funeral a couple of days ago. (Matt's a good friend of the Rouge's, too.) I mean, we technically didn't go to the funeral itself; since we know the kids pretty well, their parents asked us to babysit them. Which was fine, I don't really mind, and I know Matt sure as heck didn't mind, haha. He's so good with kids, especially those two. He could make the girl laugh so hard she would double over at times, and was so nice to the boy, Jacob...
Damn, he'd make a good father.
Not that I'm bad with kids! I'm okay, I guess, but you can't really compare yourself to Matt. He's practically a kid himself. Compared to normal people, though, I'm pretty good.
Oh shoot, I hear someone coming. Gotta put this away real quick.
Alright, he's gone. Though I probably didn't need to put this away - Matt already guessed that I was writing instead of sorting mail. He knows me far too well.
Basically, he walked in and called me out on it. "Mathias Conrad Contra, I hear no shuffling of important mail papers. You writing in that journal again?"
Of course I denied it, but Matt just grinned. "I'm calling your bluff right now, Contra. Own up or I'm adding your private little diary to the stakes."
"Alright, fine," I admitted. "Is it really that easy to tell I'm lying?"
"Besides the fact that I've known you for six years, a lifetime spent at the Celadon Casino have toughened my skills," he attested. (It was true. Matt used to spend all his time there playing cards on the weekends when he lived in Kanto. It was such a big part of his lifestyle that he uses the card phrases in everyday life.)
We chatted some more and then he left, probably to go see how Scholl is holding up. Forgot if I mentioned this or not, but Matt's fallen head over heels for Elise. I keep telling him to ask her out sometime, but he never listens! If he doesn't act soon enough, I bet Lennon or someone is going to try to make a move. Man, if Lennon and Elise started dating, Matt would be so angry, haha.
I'm getting sidetracked here. Back to work! Still have a couple more letters to sift through. Most of these have our name on them, thank goodness. I'd hate to accidentally open something that wasn't actually addressed to us.
Huh, there's a box here. It doesn't have a sender's address, and besides our own address, no mention of the place name... Eh, might as well open it anyways. Who knows, it could be from Dad-in-law.
Man, there's loads of tape on this thing. Gotta to get a knife or something...
Just pried it open. As for what's inside...
...Three Pokéballs? There're all Ultra Balls, too... I don't think we ordered any Pokémon, I'll have to go check with Dr. Reynolds. He's the head around here, you know, he'd know about it.
But... one of them's moving. No, wait, all of them are moving, like they're going to open any second.
Oh my gO