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I was walking along the street one day, when out of the corner of my eye, I saw it.

A curled up green...something. I vaguely remembered it from somewhere, but I couldn't quite tell where. It wiggled at me, beckoning me closer.

I squatted down before it and petted it on the head. I couldn't tell if it minded since it's eyes seemed to always be perpetually frozen in a saddened droop.

I took it home. I had no idea why I did it, but something inside me echoed the never changing look on that thing's face. was lonely too.

I looked it up a bit when I got home. Apparently it was called a Metapod. Interesting name. I was never good with thinking up names, so I simply called it Metapod. The first time he heard his name, he bobbed up and down slightly, as though agreeing.

He was a quiet pet. Every morning, when I woke up, he was right there next to me. Every time I came home, he was sitting patiently on the table. Every night, he would sit there as I told him an account of everything that happened to me.

I had read somewhere that Metapods evolve into something new after a while. But mine never did. Every single day, every single month, he would never change. And that was fine. He was Metapod, and he wasn't about to change. He wasn't about to leave me alone by myself. That was fine.