The moment I dreamed, I almost instantly awoke, because I instantly knew I was dreaming, and I can't sleep when this is the case. The first reason I knew I was dreaming was because I wasn't at a gunpoint, the bullets loaded, the finger resting confidently on the trigger to fire the movement I made a wrong move. This was the first thing I noticed.
Second, I could feel the weights of pain lifted from my shoulders, the searing burns, bruises, aches and dried blood all wash away for one glorious instant as I breathed in my surroundings, and the unmistakable presence of him, and that was the minute I jerked back into cold, harsh reality.
Everything was perfect, exactly as I remembered it to be, the clear redness of the sky skimming over the rolling hills, which dipped fluently towards the surprisingly clear sky for any time in March, the sun standing guard over head falling and allowing it's partner to begin it's sentry over Vegeta, leading a darker tinge of red behind it, which eventually develop into the dark red sky of night which would be lit up by the stars when night finally fell.
My knees were tucked under my chin, my gaze stubbornly fixed on the uneven landscape in front of me, and as much as I tried to tug my gaze away, to look at him, talk to him, beg for him to get me away, my head started throbbing, my gaze swimming and a loud, shrill keening sound started ringing through my ears.
The pain was what well and truly surfaced me from my dream, whether it was the pain in my head or pain from the outside world, I have no clue. I jerked awake, and, as I have been for the past for the past 24 hours, there is a gun at the side of my head.
"Get up, kid!" yelled a tall guy who was covered in a thick layer of battle armor, reloading the gun threateningly. I watched a set of unused bullets clattering to the floor and pulled myself up shakily, still feeling entirely submerged in freezing cold water, and my body instantly felt numb it was so cold. Impatiently, the tall guy grabbed me by the hair and lifted me straight off my feet, dangling me in front of him and inspecting me like I was some kind of new species or experiment.
The tug on my hair burned, and my eyes began tearing up, and I bit on my lip stubbornly, looking at the tall guy now where I thought his eyes should be under that dark helmet and silently begging him to let me go.
"Are you crying?" He growled with a deathly low menace in his voice. I shook my head, my fists balled up and my fringe shaking loose to fall over my eyes. My head throbbed hard, my memories blurred, my feelings warped like they were being twisted into an endless loop of fear and hatred. I felt like even he couldn't make me ever feel safe again.
As soon as I thought this a mental blow rammed into the side of me, and the world around me revolved, the blinding lights of the lab warping into one massive, eternal prison around me, the needles and scalpels magnified and rocking dangerously close to me. I felt so sick I couldn't be sick, so hot it was cold, and so cold I felt numb, my mind turning on me and ripping me apart from the inside out. I was forgetting myself; it was dragging me down, molding it into something different, something dark and scary, and something that no one could ever get me out of.
Then, it didn't even matter that tears were leaking out and dripping down my face. I just had to, had to remember who I was.
I am Nora. I am Nora. I am 7 years old. I am a Saiyan. Saiyans don't cry. I will be the strongest. I am not evil. I will find him again.