By Julian W. 

Part One

When I was in first grade, I didn’t feel an urge to take influence from others. If other kids were talking about Bakugan, I would ignore them. If nobody else still watched Daniel Tiger, I kept watching it. I only took influence from my parents, until I hit a wall. And this was a wall that hit me hard. I had discovered a community of first graders that all adored and obsessed over Pokémon. I could hear my brain yelling, “Whoah, hold up! Your parents never mentioned this. Let’s walk away, and forget this ever happened.” But my fascinated first grade brain got the best of me. This was a bullet I couldn’t dodge. For a couple weeks I watched myself evolve out of my asocial six year old self into a human capable of making friends.

When Covid hit, and my parents had nothing better to do, they would take me to the Pokémon card store. And boy, would I burn money at that store. As I collected more and more cards, I became obsessed over this Japanese company about small monsters. The next four or so years rolled by, and my interests and awareness in Pokémon went up and down like a mountain. But then I found something, something that I thought my eyes would never feast upon.

Part Two

I’ve always liked exploring. The woods, a cave, some old guy’s attic, you name it. I suppose that it’s because I love the feeling of thrill with a slight edge of terror. In a life where a lot of the same stuff happens every day, I really enjoy walking around with no clue what’s going to happen, and the next thing I know the universe has thrown a completely unexpected storm at me, and I have to find a way to sail through stormy seas.

One particular autumn day happened to be my cousin’s fourth birthday. Don’t get me wrong, I love my cousins, but going to a four year old’s birthday party is like walking into a room full of angry kittens. But I figured that I could say hi to my family, wish my cousin a happy birthday, and head to the basement to play the Wii. Occasionally I would get bored of playing Lego Star Wars: The Complete Saga, and I would look around for anything cool. On this particular day I found myself exploring my uncle’s basement. I found a promising spot next to the TV, and soon I was sifting through a container of old DS games like an archaeologist. But then my eyes caught sight of a black fabric case with a zipper at the bottom of the tub.  I reached out my hand, completely unaware of what lay inside. I lifted the top of the case… Wow!, is what I would have said to myself if I wasn’t completely in shock. The smell of 1989 charged into my nose in a pleasant but bitter way. Sort of like a dark chocolate bar. I gazed upon the small screen, the two red buttons, and lastly Nintendo Gameboy, written in blue. My eyes widened, my hands trembled. The shock hit me with a jolt of lightning. I gently grabbed the Gameboy, and then I excitedly dashed upstairs like I’d been shot out from a cannon. My dad and uncle were chatting in the kitchen, and I burst into the room with more energy than a toddler that just drank a pot of coffee. I raved on in some unknown language excitedly.

And they were like, “Wow, a Gameboy. Haven’t seen one of those since the 90s.”

I was a bit surprised by their meh reaction. “Can I at least get some batteries?” I asked blankly. My uncle walked me over to a cabinet in the dining room and pulled out the batteries of some old Christmas ornament like a sloth and then handed them to me. He wished me luck, and then I walked down to the basement. I was immediately met with the sound of my cousin’s noisy four year old friends. I crept over to a table away from all the chaos. I stuck the batteries into the Gameboy, and I stuck a little Tetris cartridge in the Gameboy. I’d been playing like a mindless zombie when one of my cousin’s friends walked over to me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m just playing a Gameboy,” I answered.

“What’s that?” he questioned.

“It’s an old Nintendo handheld, from the 90s,” I explained. 

“Huh.” 

“It’s sort of like… your I-pad. You play games on it and don’t need a TV.” He looked over my shoulder at the green Gameboy screen and the little Tetris blocks. 

“That looks stupid. What do you do in that game? Talk to blocks?” he chuckled.

 “Must be better than Cocomelon simulator,” I mumbled. 

“What?! Hmph. Whatever, everything from the 90s sucks, anyway.” 

Then he walked away to play a Spiderman pinball machine from the 90s that doesn’t use electricity. A few hours later the party was over, and everyone went home. At home I sat on my couch and looked through the black fabric case; a cluster of Gameboy games lay inside the case like a pirate’s treasure in a chest. After looking through the case for a bit I noticed one small blue cartridge. A cartridge that would change my life forever. 

Part Three

I often notice odd little details in odd little things. And this fact about me possibly changed the way I view the world. After about a second of analysis I noticed that most of the cartridges were gray, so I guess that the fact that one was blue made it stick out more. Despite this, I felt more like a robot reaching out with no other choice. And before I knew it, BAM, I was holding a copy of Pokémon Blue in my very hands. I gazed upon the small cartridge with every organ in my body stopping to look. I felt excited to play, but secretly I also felt a bit nervous since I’d never really played a role playing game, and certainly not a Pokémon game. I held off on playing for a few days, but I eventually figured that I just had to take the plunge. I booted up the game on the Gameboy, and miraculously the opening scene appeared before my eyes. 

It took a long time to beat the game. I had to walk away from the game for a while. I had to change my plan. But I went back to playing the game, and eventually I watched the credits unreel. I didn’t jump out of my seat with joy, nor did I feel like bouncing around the car, where the end happened; I just sat there quietly, happily listening to the music. I had done it. I beat Pokémon Blue.

  

Part Four 

I rarely give up. Sure I’ve given up on plenty of things, but even in those times I try often to try my hardest not to. I need breaks; we all do. This wasn’t the first time I’ve needed to walk away from something, but I’m sure the reader has better things to do than listen to me complain about how hard The Legend of Zelda: Spirit Tracks is.

I think this story reflects on what I’ve been saying about myself, how even when I need to walk away from things, I’m still capable of coming back and finishing what I’ve started. I waited and came back, changed my plan, and waited for the stars to align to beat the game. And that’s what I did, and that’s exactly why this story is a phenomenon. A Pokémon Blue phenomenon.