I watched as the Phoenix clawed at Moo. I was holding my unconscious father in my arms. Moo knocked an attacking Mocchi to the ground, almost turning him into a Lost Disk. Shocked and angry, my friend Genki rollerbladed forward. I screamed at him and told him to stop.
“You can’t beat him yourself!” I shouted. “Let the Phoenix take care of Moo!” But he ignored me.
“You jerk!” Genki screamed. He leapt forward, fists first. He was fast, but not fast enough. Moo saw him and with one free hand, slashed Genki and sent him flying about a hundred feet in the air. He came crashing to the ground, the sound of bones snapping like a thousand thunderstorms.
“GENKI!” I yelled. I rushed over to him as my other friends watched the Phoenix scorch the evil Moo. Genki was coughing up blood and saliva as a pool of blood leaked out from under him. His back and limbs were turned at an impossible position. His breathing was slow and forced. I don’t think I’ll ever forget that look of utter anguish twisted on his usually handsome face.
Now as the Phoenix starts to destroy Moo, I pray.
I pray that the Phoenix will finish Moo off for all the suffering he’s brought to millions, human and monster alike.
I pray that my father will awaken soon and after this battle, fix what he has broken.
I pray that all the Lost Disks are revived, and the badies are now goodies.
I pray that my monster friends will fight to the end, finally defeating Moo.
I pray that Genki will live.
I pray that he’ll live to see another sunset.
Pray that he will once again pull me out of danger.
Pray that he’ll still be here to cheer me up when I’m sad.
Pray that he’ll pull through and look back at this as a great victory.
And I pray that Genki will live to see the day that I gather the guts to tell him, "I love you."
Oh Lord, if it means you never answer another of my prayers, answer this one. Answer my cry and put life back into Genki’s worn body. I have never asked for much, and all I want now is the gift of life for the best friend I could ever have.
I look at Moo, hitting the ground with a thud, never to rise again. I hear my friends give a cry of joy. And I look at Genki, smiling at me weakly.
“We’ve won, Holly,” he whispers to me, “this is our greatest victory.” As his breathing becomes more painful and forced, I pray that this does not become our greatest loss as well.
Oh loving God, answer my cry. Grant Genki the great gift of life. Heed my words and take action.
If nothing else, answer my prayer.