literature

The Beauty Contest

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Literature Text

Bathing. Trimming. Combing. Perfuming. Accessorizing.

She's beautiful.

Everyday.

Bathing. Trimming. Combing. Perfuming. Accessorizing.
She gets all the grooming.

Posing. Acting. Parading. Impressing. Demonstrating.
She gets all the attention.

Hailing. Praising. Complimenting. Applauding.
She gets all the fame.

That gardevoir.



Her moves, always flawlessly gracious.
Her looks, always breathtakenly georgous.
Her inner self, standing as tall as her physical pulchritude.
She is not a pokemon, but perfection incarnated.

For so long I have been keeping myself up at night, restlessly practicing my attacks and my movements, hopelessly trying to reproduce her grace.
For so long have I hidden myself from outside gazes, cautionously grooming my fur and skin, imagining myself under the spotlight.
Hearing the voices in my head of thousands of spectators wowing at the unbearable beauty standing before them, and for once being the object of their amazement.
Yes, I envy her.

Yes, I am sad.
Sad of not having a tenth of her fame, but I am beautiful too.
Sad of always being the one left behind, but I am worth it too.
I wish I could too have my hours of glory...
...just for one day...
...just once in a lifetime...

As I look up at her, I can see a faint sadness in her eyes, but why? Oh why?
She has everything one could ever wish for.
Why should I be feeling melancholy emanating from her?
What is the meaning...?
Would she be wanting even more...?

I walk closer to her.

She utters a smile at me.
Her smile... looks so warm, yet feels so cold...
...so cold...
Would she be laughing at me?

Would she be silently deriding my rejection at the profit of her fame?

Would she...?

She has lost her smile.
She is looking straight into my eyes with her big crystalline eyes.
Their glimmer is darkening.
Her expression is withering.
Her life... is fading.




I took gardevoir's place.
They say she ran away.
The new beloved beauty star is known as a glamorous mismagius.

Bathing. Trimming. Combing. Perfuming. Accessorizing.

I am beautiful.

Everyday.

Bathing. Trimming. Combing. Perfuming. Accessorizing.
Here we go once again.

Posing. Acting. Parading. Impressing. Demonstrating.
I have no time to rest.

Hailing. Praising. Complimenting. Applauding.
Yet soon they will forget, and the show must go on.

"That mismagius.
Her moves, always flawlessly gracious.
Her looks, always breathtakenly georgous.
Her inner self, standing as tall as her physical pulchritude.
She is not a pokemon, but perfection incarnated."
...or so they say.

For so long I have loathed fame, now I cry at night over a time forever gone, remembering and mourning the freedom I once had
For so long I will keep watching all pokemons out there, playing, running, and laughing freely without obligations.
Yes, I envy them.

Yes, I am sad...
And as I again comb and groom the long silky fur, just like a silent reminder of a warning I once failed to understand, I can still see the sadness shine behind the glassy eyes of a dead body.



Nobody took my place.
They say I ran away.
<spoilers>
For those who might not get the subtle implications:
Yes, mismagius killed gardevoir in an excess of jealousy and hid her corpse.
Yes, at the end she is actually combing/grooming the dead gardevoir's hair instead of her own, overwhelmed by guilt.
And yes, mismagius killed herself.

Mismagius & gardevoir (c) Nintendo & Gamefreak
© 2011 - 2024 tainted-oddity
Comments13
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Alpha-Gamer666's avatar
This is so sad and creepy at the same time ;_;
I really love how you wrote this. Makes me want to read more stuff like this ^^