If you're reading this, I want to apologize. I want to apologize for the mistake that I made. It cost me my family, my friends, my town, and my Pokemon. I'm sorry for what I've done, it's all my fault. Now, in my old age, it is my duty to share my story with those of you who will listen. Listen well, or you may too fall into the same trap as I did. It all started the day that Meowth walked into my life.

It was a day like anyother for me, a young teenager just being released from school in the small mountain town of Shrooma. Our lives were simple, and quaint. Most of our houses were small, one room structures of wooden planks, though sometimes I could see from across the valley the large homes lining the mountainside. Mother had told me those homes belonged to the wealthy, to those who had created the machines that allowed the miners in our town to descend into the depths of the caves and harvest the mushrooms that were in every dish she prepared. Mother said they had worked hard and saved their entire lives to buy those homes.

But father, who worked in the mushroom mines, told me a different story. To him, the mushroom mine owners were born with their fortunes, and greedily kept it all to themselves. Father always would come home with soot on his face, and stinky from the mines. Yet, we always had enough for mother to cook Mushroom Stew for dinner, and to buy clothes and school supplies for the rest of us.

That day, I looked at homes of the Mine Owners and made a wish that one day, I would live in a house like that. Little did I know, then, that my wish was about to come true.