Oblivion

     It was another of those gloomy days, where the sun didn't care to show itself, and the clouds covered the blue sky. In other words, today was a miserable day. A young Midnight-Lycanroc was sitting on the edge of a rock, watching the world pass on. Without her.

     It wasn't like the world would've been better with me in it. Vigil bitterly thought as she kicked one of the crumbling rocks beside her. Sitting here, above the world, was much better than having her achievements clouded up by others whom she'd never defeat. Hmph. Was it worth trying to fight to the top, only to be beaten down and down? Would they ever see her desperate attempts for perfection? Could she ever meet up to their standards? Vigil didn't know for sure.

     But what she did know was one simple fact:

     She was at the bottom of the food chain, never to rise to the top.

Nothing You Do is Good Enough

BEFORE YOU READ: This is written from the perspective of baby Vigil. She doesn't understand this type of parenting isn't okay so she'll grow up, stuck in this mindset until something slaps her awake.

     "Vigil, this was worse than last time," growled a looming figure. A small Rockruff was crouching down, her head lowered, eyes darting from place to place. Standing above her were her two parents, with resentful glares boring upon her.

     "Didn't you promise you would do better next time?" another voice chided the young pup.

     "I know, I know!" she whined as he began to back away from her parents. However, she knew there wasn't anywhere to hide, anywhere to escape this nightmare. They all knew that. "But I wasn't trying-"

     "You weren't?" a gasp escaped from her mother as her father grimaced and shook his head.

"We taught you better than that. I thought we've finally drilled that into that thick skull of yours."

Silence.

Vigil didn't know how to respond. She couldn't get the words out of her mouth. If she said anything, her parents would twist her sentences. They would manipulate her into thinking she had disrespected her parents and that she deserved the most ruthless punishment.

     After moments of tense stillness, her father's eyebrows creased as he spoke Vigil's verdict. "From now on, you will not be allowed to talk to anyone. Not until your grades are a straight-A." Vigil's father announced, looking direr by the second. "You will not communicate with no one, and I mean no one. Not your siblings, not Lapsang, not your peers, and certainly not us. We thought you've improved, but your grades show us otherwise." Vigil's mother nodded in agreement, and Vigil felt the raw pain of despair climbing up her throat. They couldn't- they really couldn't enforce that, would they? With a lump forming in her throat, Vigil felt the hot tears rushing to her eyes. Oh no. Now was the worst possible time to cry. She couldn't let her parents see her like this! After all, crying was unacceptable behavior in the family. If Vigil allowed herself to such weakness, she would engrave a bad mark on her family's polished name.

     Suddenly, Vigil could feel her mother's silky tail resting on her back. "It's all right, Vigil," she murmured as Vigil's father marched off to scold Rubble, her older brother. "We only have the best intentions for you. After all, you wouldn't want to get a poor job and suffer in the streets, right?" The Rockruff could only numbly shake her head in understanding. Her mother's words were floating past her, like clumsy clouds bumping into each other. The world became a blur, and she could barely hear or see anything. Her vision was hazy with wet tears. "Only poor people will have that future, like your friend... Allegro." At the mention of the Galarian-Linoone, Vigil's mother frowned. The young Rockruff's body was trembling with rage- how dare she disparaged her friend like that! Yet, Vigil knew not to speak against her elders. She bit her tongue and nodded again.

     "We are one of the wealthiest families in this town. Shouldn't we take advantage of that? We're even lucky we could get this opportunity!" Vigil's mother lectured, the words rolling off her tongue like a silver snake. "Now, would you fancy some ice cream? Perhaps a sundae?" the offer was out of the question. With a happy bark, Vigil raced after her mother. Although the distant yelling of Rubble's and Vigil's father resonated in the background, Vigil merely brushed the situation away with a shrug. As long as her mother and father supported her, Vigil knew they didn't mean any harm. Yes, they were strict, but they had good intentions.

     After all, this was a part of Vigil's life.

     It was normal.