Retrograde

3rd March 202x
The world has gone off the deep end. Pokémon are a reality now! Many animals and pets are turning into those Japanese fantasy critters, and even humans aren't spared from this wrathful spirit that causes those transformations. Nobody knows how many were affected, nor what the ramifications of turning truly are.
I haven't engaged with Pokémon ever since my son and wife passed away last autumn. Pokémon was Jovi's favourite franchise. Looking at them only ever fills me with agony. However, I'm afraid that I no longer am able to avoid this painful memory. I find solace in the thought that Jovi would've loved every minute of what is happening right now. He'd probably talk my ear off with the game's trivia.
Anyway, my name is Reto Brunner, 39, widower to my late wive Franziska and my dearest son Jovin, and I write this journal to hopefully keep my sanity in these life-changing events. May God help me through this hardship.

20th March 202x
The past few weeks have been filled with uncertainty and fear. The WHO estimates that around five per cent of people and animals globally have already turned, or will turn in the next couple of months. They advise everyone to keep their distance from Pokémon, as they still didn't know whether it is infectious.
Life here on the hillside of Thun has been rather quiet at least. I haven't seen any Pokémon yet, even when I went down into town for groceries earlier this the week.
Also, Sunday sermons are finally allowed to take place again; as long as you wear a face mask at least. I lit a candle for my family and left a few flowers at their resting place to celebrate. I have found myself praying more and more in the past few weeks.

2nd April 202x
I went through Fränzi's and Jovi's belongings in the attic today. I needed to find our family album that my mother requested. I also found Jovi's Flaaffy plushie that I gave him for his sixth birthday. He took it everywhere with him and it still smells like him... I took it down with the album and put it below the family picture in the living room. As painful as it is to look at it, I need to be prepared for my inevitable encounters with the real things. May this serve me as a reminder to ground myself.

4th April 202x
Yesterday I went through my family album with my parents. It was an honestly great time with many laughs and tears. I enjoyed it thoroughly.
That same night was weird, though. I had a vivid dream of Jovi's sixth birthday, but he was a Mareep and Fränzi was a Flaaffy. That in itself wasn't as weird, considering what I was up to the past few days, but I still remember everything about that dream as if it really happened. I usually forget dreams after waking up, but this one had stuck with me in the strangest ways.
I once again find solace at their resting place by the lake as I write this entry. The breeze feels nice and the view of the Niesen is impeccable as always. He is still crowned with snow, so it's still too early to think about jumping into the lake itself.

30th April 202x
That dream still hasn't left me. It even got worse? It's hard to write down, but I started to have more and more dreams about family gatherings and events where everyone was either a Mareep, Flaaffy or Ampharos. It's rather disturbing and the dreams are as vivid and consistent as the real memories they mimic. Even worse, some of those dreams I seem to remember more clearly than their originals. I think I need a therapy session with Michelle again...
Since I've visited my family more often in the past few weeks, I made friends with the pastor Mr Schmid there. He is very kind and made it his mission to make my stays at their resting place as comfortable as possible. And he is a great singer too! I'm very grateful for meeting him. I need to think of something as a thank you gift for him.

10th May 202x
The WHO and the FOPH finally gave the all-clear today. Pokémon weren't contagious and all restrictions were lifted. I have encountered a few Pokémon myself in the meantime as well. I don't know what they are called, but one was a pink bipedal thing with swirls below its ears and another was a blue and black octopus with yellow markings. They were both humans a few days ago, but seemingly adjusted well.
I also have a session with Michelle in a few days. Maybe she can help me with those weird dreams or at least make some sense of them.
I also gave Mr Schmid a good bottle of Valais red wine as a gift today. Lucky me bought his favourite wine, too! We enjoyed a glass of it by my family's side that late afternoon as well. His calm and upbeat demeanour is a real mood-lifter. Their graves are no longer a place of exclusive sadness, but a place of peace for my heavy soul.

13th May 202x
Michelle wasn't really able to make things any clearer, unfortunately. But she said that it's oddly similar to a thing called "Pokémon Induced Psychosis Syndrome". Even odder, this "PIPS" usually only ever affects turnees. I'd be lying if I said I'm not afraid of the implications of that. She said that it's coincidental and that I should not worry, but what am I supposed to do with that info? She told me to contact her immediately if anything changes; for better or for worse.
After the session I visited my family at the graveyard again, just to sit there, pray, and looking over the lake. The serenity helped me calm down immensely.

4th June 202x
I'm horrified... the dreams have started to become my regular memories it seems. While going through some pictures on my phone today, I started to remember the events as though I was a Flaaffy. I didn't even question it until I really thought about it... I contacted Michelle immediately and I have an appointment with her tomorrow.
I'm currently sitting with my family and try to calm down. Unfortunately Mr Schmid isn't here today. I could really use his soothing singing voice right about now...

5th June 202x
Michelle seemed to be just as confused and worried as I am. She told me that she will contact some experts abroad and that I should write everything down until she can make an appointment with them.
I sat with my dear Fränzi and Jovi for the rest of the day... anything to keep me from going completely insane.

11th June 202x
It just keeps getting worse and worse. My parents started being Ampharos' in my memories. Michelle told me that it will take another two weeks for an appointment, as the experts need to be flown in. "Hang in there!" she told me.
I've talked to my parents about it on the phone as well. They're deeply worried about my wellbeing... What is happening to me? And why does it happen just as I finally started to accept my widower fate...?

20th June 202x
...
...
...
I no longer remember the faces of my own son and wife. The pictures are the only thing left of them in their once familiar form...
...
...
Is this my punishment for surviving that cursed rockfall? Wasn't taking away my flock enough?
God, please make it stop... I cannot endure much longer.
...
I can't...

(no date given)
I can't bear it any longer! Every face in my home is a stranger!
Please make it stop! P̸l̷e̶a̸s̵e̴ ̶j̵u̶s̵t̵ ̶m̶a̴k̸e̴ ̷i̷t̷ ̸s̸t̸o̶p̴!̷ P̸l̷e̶a̸s̵e̴ ̶j̵u̶s̵t̵ ̶m̶a̴k̸e̴ ̷i̷t̷ ̸s̸t̸o̶p̴!̷ P̸l̷e̶a̸s̵e̴ ̶j̵u̶s̵t̵ ̶m̶a̴k̸e̴ ̷i̷t̷ ̸s̸t̸o̶p̴!̷ P̸l̷e̶a̸s̵e̴ ̶j̵u̶s̵t̵ ̶m̶a̴k̸e̴ ̷i̷t̷ ̸s̸t̸o̶p̴!̷ P̸l̷e̶a̸s̵e̴ ̶j̵u̶s̵t̵ ̶m̶a̴k̸e̴ ̷i̷t̷ ̸s̸t̸o̶p̴!̷
P̴̨̍͝L̶̠̂̏Ę̶̯̈́͐À̵̧̓Ṣ̶̑E̶̪̭̓,̵̖̃ ̶̢̀Ď̷̦E̴̖͗͘A̵̮̻̎̍Ṟ̴̻̏ ̵̗̹͑G̵̗̭̀O̵̺̼͐D̶̤̏,̷̠̦̋̀ ̶͙͑́M̷̢̱͑́A̶͔͙̿́K̴̝̭͑̆Ḛ̸̯͑ ̴̰̰͂I̷͉̓̕T̴̪̰͊ ̶̛͜S̸̩͋T̸̏͒͜O̸͍͠P̵̜͔̎!̶̧͖̂̑

A chill ran down Michelle's spine as she read the last entry in Reto's journal.
It was 22nd June 202x.
She put down the journal of her patient and looked at the family picture above the shelf in his living room.
It was a lovely picture of Reto with Ms. Brunner and Jovin somewhere in the Alps in hiking gear. Jovin was holding a Flaaffy plush in his arms and everyone was smiling.
Two almost burnt-out candles illuminated the picture from the shelf below. A small bouquet of forget-me-nots and a piece of paper lay beside them.
Michelle went over to the shelf and looked at the half torn notepad.
"R̵e̸m̵e̶m̸b̴e̵r̶ ̶t̵h̸e̵i̴r̸ ̷f̵a̸c̴e̷s̴," it read in Reto's delirious handwriting.
Michelle felt a lump forming in her throat.
The experts had arrived this morning, and after he didn't pick up his phone she made the decision for a spontaneous home visit to set the date for the appointment.
A tear ran down her face. If only she had stopped by yesterday...
Michelle blew out the candles and took the blanket and journal from the sofa before going to Reto's bedroom.
A highly distressed and wildly shaking Flaaffy was lying on the bed, still curled up into a ball like she had found him. Tear-filled eyes stared into the void.
He clung to the Flaaffy plush of his late son...
When she found him like this, the journal had been lying next to him, open at that last harrowing page.
Reto didn't say anything, but she was sure it was him because he responded to her questions in the same way the human Reto would have done, just using nods and gestures instead of words while he kept staring into the nothingness.
He still seemed lucid, so at least he didn't turn feral. But he was well past his breaking point and needed all the help he could get right now.
She wrapped the completely distraught Flaaffy in the blanket and picked him up gently.
"You'll get through this, Reto. I will make sure of it!" Michelle assured him.
Only a weak and quivering "baaa" escaped him in response, tears still rolling down his pink cheeks.
She carried him to her car, informed the neighbours to take care of the house in his absence, and then drove towards the city centre.
On their way to the psychological facility, Michelle stopped at the chapel where Reto's wife and son were laid to rest.
She asked the pastor Mr Schmid to show her the grave of Ms. Brunner and Jovin, and sat Reto and the plush down by it.
He curled up right beside the beautifully chiselled tombstone while still shaking and staring into oblivion.
The pastor simply sat down silently beside him and placed a hand on Reto's back, which eased his erratic shaking somewhat.
Michelle thanked the pastor for his help and went inside the small chapel to make a phone call to the facility to prepare everything for a new arrival.
After finishing the call, Michelle just looked around the little house of God in silence.
She could hear Mr Schmid starting to sing while she lit two candles.
One for the family that had been violently torn apart, and another... for its sole survivor.