Well, everyone, here's the revised first chap.

Well, I'm Satan Videl…and basically: my life is fucking hell, let me repeat, fucking hell. Try having a father that is an arrogant ass hole. He can't see anything with his own two eyes because his head is shoved so far up his ass. Well, life is not perfect for me. I'm a celebrity, but do you think I care? Do you really think it matters to me? Those people aren't my friends. I only have one friend, for a matter of fact. They blindly kiss my father's ass and he eats it up. As far as a mother, well, I don't have one. I cannot wait for high school to be over with. I can finally get the Hell away. I don't have to deal with anymore-fake people. I can just run away. "It's not like I'd actually be running away from anyone…my father doesn't care for me…and my mother, well, she was taken away."

There's so much hatred in me but no one will see the nice side of me and I mean no one. There is no love in my heart. Neglected and abused, I was, but does anyone really care? No, my father is the closest thing to a saint. He can do no wrong (yeah, right)!

It was just any other normal day in Satan City's High School, however, with the exception of an unusual new student.

'Momma…why did you have to send me to this school? I've learned everything from home school, I just don't understand you.' A young boy with tan pants and a white T-shirt said to himself.

"Well, today, class, we have a new student. His name is Son Gohan."

As the sensei introduced the young man, Videl looked him over. 'He looks okay enough.' She said to herself. 'Funny, I don't have an immediate urge to curse him out.'

As she stared at him, she felt an inner burning feeling…'I'm just staring at this kid like he's so interesting while he looks dorky scratching his eyebrow and practically hopping around.'

Then she felt it – the feeling she hadn't felt for so many years. The feeling she only felt with one person on the face of the Earth…

What she felt was: serenity.

However, as soon as that feeling came, it went and she was reliving a certain memory:

"Momma!" The twelve year old exclaimed on the phone. "How are you?" She asked with genuine interest.

"I'm Fine Vidy. Although I wish your step-father felt the same way."

"What do you mean, Momma?" The pre-teen asked, confused.

"Well, he said that you've been aweful rude to him again, insulting him to his face, not talking to him, just being down-right nasty with him.

(Stop, what are you saying?
Don't keep crying on the phone.)

"Momma!" The twelve year old exclaimed. "How can you say that? You know it's not true!" Tears then started welling up in her eyes. 'I can't believe she's saying this again.'

Videl then started feeling a dull pain on the left side of her chest. 'Not again.' She thought.

"Yes, Videl…" Her mother started, her voice started tightening. "I'm tired of your bad behavior towards him, all the time, no less." He mother ended, almost angerly.

(What did you say?
I can't believe I called your house a home!
How can you say that Momma?

How can you look at me like so?)

"I don't know what you're talking about…but you're doing it again!" Videl exclaimed, and her voice started turning a rosy hue. "Why? Why do you always say that? I'm nothing but polite to him. I don't understand you!"

"Polite?" Her mother asked, condescendingly. "If going psycho on him-"

"Momma! Stop!" The young girl cried. "I do nothing but be polite to him…I can't believe he's manipulated you against me. He's the one who mentally and emotionally abuses me…talks bad about me to other people as though I wasn't standing two feet away from him…forgive me if I'm not a racist-"

(Momma, don't rip my heart out, I'd
like to see how you look when you're old.
Don't ruin me with those eyes of yours...
Don't call me the devil, when you know it isn't so.

Can't you realize who the real devil is? )

"Don't you dare say that! He is not!" Her mother retorted, her violet eyes darkening.

"He is so! How many bad things have I heard about other people before I've even seen a person of that ethnicity-"

"That's enough…I can't believe I raised you…fabricating all these lies!" Her mother's anger broke and tears brimmed in her eyes.

(Are you not strong enough to fight it; the evil that's around you.
Are you not brave enough, or bold...
Wake up Momma, don't act so cold...)

"I can't deal with you!" The girl cried. The pain in her chest throbbed even more. "If he's poisoned you so much against me, then I can't stand to talk to you." She finished.

"Videl-" Her mother started.

"No, goodbye Momma…" and she hung up the phone.