Disclaimer: I do not own DBZ. Lyrics used are taken from a song by Mariah
Carey.
AN: Inspired from a beautifully written fic on adimra's website.
A very dark fanfic of Bulma being taken by the Saiyans. This story line has been done SO many times, but it's still a good plot ne?
Rating is R. We have spoken greatly (my friend and I) and deliberated many themes for this certain fic. This is a DARK and contemporary fic. It will be written in POV and at times, narrative. A lot of the content in this fanfic will be strictly for mature readers, so please heed my warning and do not read if you think you cannot handle it. Violence, sex (no lemons, just implications) and language are main factors in this piece of work, so if you don't like the certain aspects I have listed, do *not* go any further.
This is my first piece of written work, so please review it as your opinions would be helpful!
The next chapter will be up tomorrow.
~*~
A wise person once said that there was a very thin line between love and hate. They couldn't have been more right.
The hatred and love I felt for one man, engulfed me for so many years and I found that I lost myself... And him, in a whirlwind of crazed emotions.
I still cannot forgive myself for what happened, even though I know none of it is my fault... Or is it? I should have-I should have...
Kami... It even hurts to talk about it, but I know I can't keep it bottled inside of me forever. I knew that one day I would have to tell someone. And that someone is my daughter. I look at her sitting across from me, as we enjoy each other's company.
I know what she wants to hear, she wants to hear the story of my life, of how I came to be the woman I am today.
She wants the story of my life, my trials and tribulations... And I will have to tell her, with my head bowed in shame.
She will learn how I destroyed a man who loved me more than-more than life itself, all because I was blinded by my own folly and rage.
I try to fight the insanity that threatens to override me, as I plunge into the story of my life without little warning, afraid of what my daughter will think of me.
I am a bad person.
~*~
The heat was causing my skin to blister. I could see angry red bumps begin to form on my arms as the sun's rays shone down upon the large and chaotic planet. There was so much noise, that I couldn't think straight. So many screams echoed in my ears.
The setting changed and the screams vanished.
Why was I here? I didn't know what was going on until I found myself running through thick foliage. But I don't know where to, I just knew that I was running, from something or someone. I could hear their heavy breathing closing in on me and I tried with all my strength to break away from the hand that was reaching out to grab me.
I felt a scream tear its way up through my vocal chords, as a heavy arm encircled my waist.
And I awoke with a sudden jolt, to find myself staring up into a pair of obsidian eyes.
The eyes that had seemed to haunt me for so long were there before me, in reality. And then, the image of the dashingly handsome man spoke.
"I see you have finally decided to grace me with your presence." His low and sultry voice caused my heart to flutter in my chest.
Who is this abomination that calls himself a man? I was so confused, that I found myself drowning in a sea of different emotions. I asked myself, who was this gorgeous yet dangerous man that loomed over me in such a frightening manner? I narrowed my eyes as I recognized the face of the man who had destroyed all my hopes and dreams.
It suddenly dawned on me, as I stared into those cold glittering eyes.
I began to cry, almost wetting myself in fear.
~*~
She hadn't started her tale from the beginning, she had jumped right in and began without any explanation. Her hands jerked in a nervous disposition. She took a deep breath, unable to carry on as an image of the muscled, handsome man flashed through her mind, with his red cape billowing out behind him in the wind and his thick black hair that was swept up into a flame, that was...
A soft but comforting hand touched her arm.
She looked up into the cerulean eyes that were a duplicate of her. The older woman smiled at the younger woman.
"Momma?" The young woman whispered fearfully, wrapping her arm completely around her mother's trembling form. "Are you ok?" concern seeped from every word the younger female spoke.
The older woman nodded and gently ran a trembling hand through her daughter's silky blue tresses, so much like her own. She was beautiful. If only her father could see his beautiful granddaughter, he would have been so proud...
Her eyes left her daughter's momentarily, looking out at the sun that was sinking behind the horizon of the sea. Her cerulean orbs grew warm as she turned to look back at her daughter, a shaky smile playing on her lips. "I am as fine as life will allow me to be, sweet daughter."
The younger female frowned at the answer. She pulled the comfortable chair even closer to her mother's, almost sitting side by side in their chairs.
They sat together in a moment of comfortable silence, looking at the purple and pink streaked sky as the sun set in the distance.
Curiosity won over the young woman and took a deep breath as she spoke her next words. "I'm sorry I asked you about your past, Momma. But please continue... You have to do this, you have to tell someone. You started half way and it was too confusing. You must start from the beginning if I'm ever to understand you." She said softly.
The older woman sighed in defeat, "I know Bra-chan, I know... But the memories haunt me so much." She closed her eyes and gripped her daughters hand tightly.
Bra smiled sadly, she placed a gentle kiss on her mother's cheek in an effort to comfort her further. "Try to be strong Momma, it won't be long before..." she trailed off unknowingly. The ominous statement hung in the air from the hidden meaning.
Bulma opened her eyes and tilted her head as her eyes glanced back at her daughter, briefly. A ghost of a smile played on her lips. "Then I had better start from the beginning, if we are to ever finish this tale, Bra- chan."
Her daughter nodded vigorously, handing her a steaming mug of coffee. It would be a long night, they both knew that.
Bulma was about to speak, but then she paused. "I-I can't recall the memories off hand, daughter. That's why I just skipped so much. But I remember now that I have an aid... It is under the bed, in a box. It is a diary of my memories. Bring it here and I will read it to you." It had occurred to her that she had kept a diary in her tumultuous time on Vegita- sei, the only thing that bound her to the past in more ways than one.
She watched quietly as her daughter stood and retrieved the hidden diary. As it was placed into her hands, Bulma grew overwhelmed with the emotions she felt. Staring at the thick straw cover, she inhaled sharply and lightly thumbed the thick papyrus book, growing more and more agitated as sirens of screams began to ring in her ears.
Trying to hush the horrific screams, she frowned and spoke softly, "I haven't held this diary since, since-" she broke off with a soft, small sob. Bulma shook as her daughters warm arms encircled her in an embracing and comforting hug.
"Shh, it's ok Momma. All of your ghosts will be laid to rest if you just let the past go, you have to move on and this is the only way you can do it." As her daughter's soothing voice calmed the raging storm in the older woman, Bulma slowly opened the thick diary.
Her eyes skimmed over the beautiful and slanted handwriting as she flicked through its pages. She hadn't touched it in so many years. She thought that if she touched it, all of her past ghosts would rise up to haunt her again and never leave her in peace. But as she leafed through the pages, relief washed over her as the ghosts of her past did not show themselves.
Bra watched her mother thumb through the book in apprehension, as though it were the black plague itself. Her throat grew dry as her mother's hand touched the very first page of the diary. Bra had known about the diary, but had never dared to sneak a look at what was inside.
She knew her mother would never forgive if she did. But she was ready to hear this, and her mother had agreed to finally speak of her cursed past. Bra was ready to hear her mother's story and she was ready to hear her own legacy. She shut her large cerulean eyes and waited for her mother to continue.
A moment of pain coursed through Bulma's veins, causing her to wince inwardly as she read the contents of the first page alone, before reciting it to her daughter.
Bulma knew he was coming and that he was coming for her. She also knew that he would tear her away from this perfect world, like he had done before and that he would cast her daughter aside like a rag doll.
Gathering up a small amount of courage, she drew a deep breath and spoke in a hushed tone to the setting sun, rather than her daughter, imagining she wasn't there so that the memories wouldn't be so painful to have her daughter know the truth of the monstrous life she had been pulled into.
It seemed so much easier to do that.
Bulma's soft and weary voice echoed through the spacious room as she read from the lavender tinted pages of the diary.
The diary that had been the only savior in her most darkest hours.
~*~
12/15/3001. (DB).
"I don't know why I'm even writing in this fucking thing. What is the point? What is the point at all? Karja says it will ease my pain, but what does she know? She doesn't know shit... No, I shouldn't say things like that. She's the one that helped to save me, along with Son-kun...
As you can see, I'm angry. Hell, I've always had a temper, but today it has been exceptionally bad. It is my birthday and I received this diary as a present from Karja. She is a slave and my friend, my only true friend in this living nightmare. I'm covertly pissed off at... Him. I can't even write his name without wanting to gut his innards with a spoon for all that he has done to me.
You are probably wondering who I am talking about. I speak of my master, the only reason that I am even here and writing this down.
I suppose I should start from the beginning.
My name is Bulma. Bulma Briefs of Chikyuu-sei. I was the daughter of an ingenious man who was a scientist, and I had a kind and loving mother. I had everything a girl could ever wish for, but like all good things, it finally came to an end.
I lost everything I owned or had, I lost my family and friends on the day a blood thirsty warrior race decided to descend upon our peaceful planet. I'm not bitter, or I'm rather I am not bitter any longer but that doesn't mean I wasn't.
Five years is quite a long time for a person to change, to grow and adapt. I was twenty when they burned our planet alive. I can't even talk about it, for I know I will only work myself into a dark rage.
I feel myself slipping with each day that passes here on this horrendous world. Each day is like a battle to survive, to keep myself from dying in spirit and mind. I feel as though insanity is just a step away from where I stand. I fear that if I step any closer to it, I will be ensnared in its grasp forever.
That is the reason why I choose not to remember my planet, but-but it can't be helped! I must tell someone what it was like there, I can't let my race die out because if I do, I'll never forgive myself. Perhaps you are the only one to whom I will be able to speak about my planet.
I cannot utter any words of my previous life before this one, it hurts too much to voice them and I fall into an unaccountable sorrow each time I try to speak of it. But I am not so impaired that I cannot write about my planet or my past.
Gods, our planet was beautiful. I can still remember what it looks like, even to this day, five years on. It was full of rich vegetation, rain forests, deserts, pure white ice lands, anything you could have imagined. It was all there, on one planet. I smile as I remember the wildlife, the delicate feathered birds and the large mammals and reptiles that lived in a cycle of life. I pine for their loss, what harm had they done to die in such a God-awful way?
I distinctly remember Papa telling me, when I was at the age of sixteen, that my eyes mirrored the sky of our planet. I had laughed and waved his comment away, as though I were swatting a fly. I told him, "The sky of Chikyuu-sei is much prettier than my eyes, Papa."
He laughed and said, "Believe what you wish princess." As though he saw something with his wise eyes, that I didn't.
I frowned at him and stomped my foot, as any other foul-tempered teenager that hated to be belittled, would have done. "But Papa!" I yelled, "Just look at the sky, you can't tell me that it's not pretty!"
His eyes twinkled in merriment. I think he enjoyed my little tantrums. "Bul-chan, when you grow older, your eyes will be the greatest asset to yield power upon any lesser man. They will be your savior."
He couldn't have been more right.
But my eyes were a curse to me on the day I was taken.
I had just turned twenty when they came. It had been like any other day on my home planet. I had been in my father's laboratory, trying to diagnose a problem he had caused in the computers' main system. Papa had always been clumsy when it came to computers. I wonder how such an ingenious man could have been so IT illiterate.
He preferred to work on his black board like a crazed Einstein, working out calculations and schematics, using chalk. I told him that one day, the added inhalation of chalk dust and tar from his cigarettes, would fuse in his lungs and choke him to death...
I can't believe I said that to him. But I was angry with him for ruining the formulae on the computer and as he lit a cigarette, I lost it. I always hated it when he smoked, and he knew it, but he never stopped. I yelled at him to leave the lab, even though I knew he was endangering no one by smoking in the computer room of the lab. He left with his head hung in shame, with the cigarette doused out.
To this day I ask Kami why he never spared my father's life as he had spared mine.
I never do get an answer.
I had just finished reprogramming the computers in the underground lab when I heard a strange bang coming from above. I grinned and thought to myself that it would be Goku, he was incredibly powerful for a sixteen year old. We could never figure out why he had a tale when we found him in our large garden. He was unconscious when we found him, lying in a strange pod.
My father took the pod, examined it and the boy inside. We found out that he wasn't from this planet, and that his ship had malfunctioned and crash landed on our planet. I warned my father not to inform the government about any of our findings and he had agreed. We raised him in our family and he was like a little brother to me, but as he grew older, he became restless with nervous energy.
We sent him to skilled fighter, an older man named Gohan, so that Goku could be trained to fight, under his knowledge. Papa knew him through an old acquaintance and was told that Gohan-san had been an extremely powerful man in his younger days and that he could help Goku to harness his power. It was something we were all in awe of.
When Gohan-san passed away, Goku took the man's second name in loving memory of his kindness, so that he would live on in his heart. Goku, or Son-kun as we now called him, came back to us with a heavy heart. It was the first death he had witnessed. As he cried in my arms, I told him that everyone had to die sometime, it was the way Kami had designed it to be.
He looked up at me through his tears and smiled sadly, "Bul-chan, I'm going to miss him."
I had simply gazed back at him with a sorrowful smile on my lips and ran my hand through the hard jutting spikes that were his hair. "I know you will Son-kun, but just think that he is in a better place now." He smiled and kissed my cheek softly.
"I'm glad that you are with me, Sister." His voice was soft and loving, of a sweetness that I would have never been able to grasp.
I chuckled as I jumped into the elevator and made my way upwards, to the main entrance of our home.
I was left speechless by what I saw when I walked through each room of my once beautiful home.
The entire place had been ransacked, turned upside down as though a tornado had blown through the room. I ran into the kitchen, suddenly worried for the safety of my family. But I knew nothing would happen to them. Son-kun was a strong boy, he could protect us.
I could hear shouts coming from outside of the dome building that had been my home for the past twenty years. I gasped and raced to the sliding glass doors of our kitchen that led out to our large garden, my mother's garden. From behind the glass doors, I looked on his horror as Son-kun was tossed into a nearby tree, he lay there not moving a muscle.
Cruel laughter danced its way towards me and I looked up to see five, lumbering men towering over my mother's blue violets. They landed, one by one, with a loud thump as they crushed my mother's flowers.
From the corner of where they stood, I heard my mother sob out in frustration and anger as they destroyed her beautiful flowers. My mother was almost never angry, and that was a cause to worry even more.
I was too mesmerized by the men to take notice of my mother's whimpering cries. I was complete awe of their sheer size and I knew without a shadow of doubt, they were from another planet. What caught my eye, was the brown furry tails peeking out from behind their armored bodies. Just like Son- kun!! But I never had time to dwell on that thought.
I can remember the look in their eyes to this very day. Such cold, bone- chilling eyes. It was as though their souls were burning in hate and rage beneath those dark eyes. They had not noticed me standing behind the glass doors.
My mouth hung open as one of them stalked towards my mother, who was now on her knees and weeping for her loss flowers it seemed, and something else that I couldn't quite make out from my position. Perhaps she was weeping for our dog, Wee. And I wondered if he had been killed in the cross fire between Son-kun and the large men with the black hair that fell down his back like a waterfall.
I yelled through the thick glass doors as the man with the lion's mane for hair, grabbed my mother by her hair. They couldn't hear me yelling, the glass was designed in such a way that it was sound proof from the outside.
No one could hear the noise from the inside, but noise from the outside could be heard. I desperately tried to unlock the door, but my fingers fumbled clumsily over the latch. I couldn't seem to control my movements, that was how much the terror had blinded me.
I watched in fear as my mother was rattled by her neck as though she were a trouble-making dog. I finally managed to unlock the door, grabbing the baseball bat that was miraculously there. It was my boyfriend Yamcha's, baseball bat, he was supposed be playing professionally that summer...
I ran out like a girl on a mission. I was screaming, screeching and yelling like a bat out of hell with the baseball bat raised above my head. It was certainly a sight to have seen.
It may seem funny as I'm describing it now, but it wasn't funny when it was actually happening before my very eyes.
You try watching a grown man shake and strangle your mother as though she were a hound, and then tell me if you find it funny. The other four men were surprised to see me, but they hung back in some kind of sick amusement, as I careened the baseball bat against my mother's captor. I hit him squarely in the head.
It didn't do a damn thing.
In fact, I could have sworn I had broken my hand in the process of slugging the bastard. He turned to me with a cold and calculating look. A look that read 'I'm going to kill you bitch'
I backed away like a gaping fish, feigning defeat, before I tried to hit him again. This time, he was ready for me and grasped the bat in one meaty hand. I gasped as he crushed the bat with his bare hand.
"Who are you?" I whispered as I was backed up against a tree. The five men were crowding around me and it seemed as though there was no way to escape.
They laughed at me.
Gods, I can even hear their laughter to this day. It haunts me at every waking moment, even five years on.
I cringed as they laughed and I turned my head, not able to look at them any longer. A flash of red passed across my vision, and through their bodies I finally saw my father lying on the ground with a wound in his chest. He was writhing in agony, his body convulsed as large amounts of blood seeped out, onto the grass below him. I sobbed out and fell to my knees, gasping for breath like him, only I wasn't the one who was dying.
The men looked over to where my attention was held and they laughed again. The prison that their bodies had created for me, separated like a gate, as though they were graciously allowing me to have my final moments with him.
I crawled like over to his slain body and felt the tears stream down my face.
"PAPA!" I cried, taking his head into my lap. I sobbed with grief as my Papa lay in a pool of his own blood. This was not the way he was supposed to die! He was supposed to die an old man, in his bed with his grandchildren around him. Not lying in a pool of his own blood. It was such a shock to see him lying there, almost dead in my arms.
I leaned down and touched my lips to his bloodied cheeks. It was then that I could feel myself slipping, with each dying breath he took. "Papa," I whispered against his cheek softly. I could feel five pairs of cruel eyes on me, but I ignored them. All I could see was my father. "I'm sorry I yelled at you Papa," I murmured against his cheek, my own tears falling upon his cheeks as though they were his. But he was not crying. I still wonder about that.
He took a ragged breath and whispered something that only I could hear. "Live, Bul-chan. You can survive, along with Son-kun. My... Princess." I choked back a strangled cry as his eyes grew still, no longer was there any life held in the blue orbs that were an exact match to mine. All I could see was an imprinted image of great loss in my father's dead eyes. I wanted to shake him awake. I wanted to scream at him to wake up.
But I didn't. I couldn't.
I gently laid his head back down on the grass, still in a sense of shock and I clung to his still body like a little girl, weeping from the loss. I was grief stricken as I uttered my next words.
"Come back Papa, come back, you have to come back. You can't leave me, I'll be a good girl from now on, I promise I won't yell at you, please come back... I promise to be a good girl. I-I'll always be your good little girl, if you come back, Papa." My voice had retreated back fifteen years, I sounded like a wounded five year old child as I sobbed into his chest.
And then, I knew nothing.
A comforting black void surrounded me, but before I lost complete control of my grip on reality, I heard a harsh voice laugh and say, "Pathetic Dait- jins, so weak with emotions! Their race should never have survived. It is a good thing we came upon this planet."
And my mind screamed, I struggled not to lose consciousness from the shock I felt. Dait-jin?!? What the fuck was a Dait-jin? We were Chikyuu-jin, not-not Dait-jin. But I lost myself in the black void before I could say anything. And as I fell back into the warm and black abyss, I wondered what had happened to my mother and Son-kun...
Heavens upon me, I cry as I write about the last moments I had with my father. My brave, handsome, brilliant Papa... Why does death always hurt so much? The conversation I had with Son-kun keeps coming back to me, of when I told him that everyone had to die, that it was part of Kami's great design.
Bitter tears are rolling down my cheeks as I write now, I cannot stop them. I haven't cried for three solid years and now... As I write this, I cry for the first time in those three long and arduous years.
There is so much pain and hate in my tears, I fear my cheeks will burn from the hate that each tear holds.
I-I cannot write anymore, I feel myself drowning with the memory of my father's death. I must find a way to block it out. I must destroy the memory, but I don't know how to...
Kami help me, but I know my life will never be the same as it was on Chikyuu-sei. I will never smile upon my Papa again, never have him hug me...
It is dark now in the small room that has been given to me. I belong to someone now. My master. I have to leave this room and join him in his own bed. Yes, I do belong to him, but-but I don't want to think about him. He is... He is not a good person. He is the reason I was so angry today. He is a cruel bastard, so heartless.
I've never met a man such as he, I wouldn't even classify him as a man. He has showered me with gifts and luxuries for the past five years, which I cast aside as they hold no meaning to me. His appearance is pleasing but he hurts me in so many ways, that I have lost count of all the times I have been hurt and I cannot look upon his face without a shudder of hatred coursing through my blood.
And he wonders why I do not show him affection. I wanted to laugh out loud when he spoke of affection, but that story will soon come in its own time. I would rather swallow my own bile and have myself riddled with lashes than show him any of my true feelings. I am nothing but a walking, breathing doll to him and he was the cause. He is a bad, bad man.
And one of these days, I will kill him.
I know I will..."
~*~
Bra shuddered in fear as her mother's voice trailed off. She could hear a tinge of insanity in the words that her mother had written. It was there on the surface of her words, ready to jump out at any given moment. "There was a thin line of love and hate between you and your master, right Momma?"
She was trying to justify what her mother had said before she had read the first entry of her diary. Somehow her mother had grown to love her Master and so Bra was confused by the hate she held for him in the first entry.
Bulma flinched at the mention of... Him. "Yes Bra-chan," she said quietly, "A very thin line. He was, oh Kami, he was a horrid man... But I felt-" She broke off, a disgusted shudder shook her small body. She grabbed her daughter's hands. "Don't you ever leave me Bra-chan!" She cried out, as though Bra was actually going to leave her.
Bra's arms were around her once again. "I'm here, Momma. I'm never going to leave you. Please go on." She placed her head on her mother's shoulder, hugging her tightly.
She was the only thing in Bulma's life that anchored her to her sanity. "I hope so, daughter... I hope so." The heavy statement hung in the air as Bulma raised her hand to turn the page.
She stared at her next entry, tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to hold onto some semblance of reality. She desperately tried to tell herself that she was here with her daughter and that she was no longer with the man that was her Master.
But all the comforting feelings disappeared as she continued to read the contents of the next page.
Would she survive through the hateful memories of him? Of the odd, binding relationship they had once shared?
She didn't know.
~*~
After so much suffering,
I finally found the unvarnished truth.
I was all by myself,
For the longest time,
So cold inside...
I felt like dying.
~*~
AN: Ok so did it stink? Was it a total pile of crap? Hated it? Or did you even like it and want more?
Review and let me know! I will put up the next chapter tomorrow.
*Heartless*
AN: Inspired from a beautifully written fic on adimra's website.
A very dark fanfic of Bulma being taken by the Saiyans. This story line has been done SO many times, but it's still a good plot ne?
Rating is R. We have spoken greatly (my friend and I) and deliberated many themes for this certain fic. This is a DARK and contemporary fic. It will be written in POV and at times, narrative. A lot of the content in this fanfic will be strictly for mature readers, so please heed my warning and do not read if you think you cannot handle it. Violence, sex (no lemons, just implications) and language are main factors in this piece of work, so if you don't like the certain aspects I have listed, do *not* go any further.
This is my first piece of written work, so please review it as your opinions would be helpful!
The next chapter will be up tomorrow.
~*~
A wise person once said that there was a very thin line between love and hate. They couldn't have been more right.
The hatred and love I felt for one man, engulfed me for so many years and I found that I lost myself... And him, in a whirlwind of crazed emotions.
I still cannot forgive myself for what happened, even though I know none of it is my fault... Or is it? I should have-I should have...
Kami... It even hurts to talk about it, but I know I can't keep it bottled inside of me forever. I knew that one day I would have to tell someone. And that someone is my daughter. I look at her sitting across from me, as we enjoy each other's company.
I know what she wants to hear, she wants to hear the story of my life, of how I came to be the woman I am today.
She wants the story of my life, my trials and tribulations... And I will have to tell her, with my head bowed in shame.
She will learn how I destroyed a man who loved me more than-more than life itself, all because I was blinded by my own folly and rage.
I try to fight the insanity that threatens to override me, as I plunge into the story of my life without little warning, afraid of what my daughter will think of me.
I am a bad person.
~*~
The heat was causing my skin to blister. I could see angry red bumps begin to form on my arms as the sun's rays shone down upon the large and chaotic planet. There was so much noise, that I couldn't think straight. So many screams echoed in my ears.
The setting changed and the screams vanished.
Why was I here? I didn't know what was going on until I found myself running through thick foliage. But I don't know where to, I just knew that I was running, from something or someone. I could hear their heavy breathing closing in on me and I tried with all my strength to break away from the hand that was reaching out to grab me.
I felt a scream tear its way up through my vocal chords, as a heavy arm encircled my waist.
And I awoke with a sudden jolt, to find myself staring up into a pair of obsidian eyes.
The eyes that had seemed to haunt me for so long were there before me, in reality. And then, the image of the dashingly handsome man spoke.
"I see you have finally decided to grace me with your presence." His low and sultry voice caused my heart to flutter in my chest.
Who is this abomination that calls himself a man? I was so confused, that I found myself drowning in a sea of different emotions. I asked myself, who was this gorgeous yet dangerous man that loomed over me in such a frightening manner? I narrowed my eyes as I recognized the face of the man who had destroyed all my hopes and dreams.
It suddenly dawned on me, as I stared into those cold glittering eyes.
I began to cry, almost wetting myself in fear.
~*~
She hadn't started her tale from the beginning, she had jumped right in and began without any explanation. Her hands jerked in a nervous disposition. She took a deep breath, unable to carry on as an image of the muscled, handsome man flashed through her mind, with his red cape billowing out behind him in the wind and his thick black hair that was swept up into a flame, that was...
A soft but comforting hand touched her arm.
She looked up into the cerulean eyes that were a duplicate of her. The older woman smiled at the younger woman.
"Momma?" The young woman whispered fearfully, wrapping her arm completely around her mother's trembling form. "Are you ok?" concern seeped from every word the younger female spoke.
The older woman nodded and gently ran a trembling hand through her daughter's silky blue tresses, so much like her own. She was beautiful. If only her father could see his beautiful granddaughter, he would have been so proud...
Her eyes left her daughter's momentarily, looking out at the sun that was sinking behind the horizon of the sea. Her cerulean orbs grew warm as she turned to look back at her daughter, a shaky smile playing on her lips. "I am as fine as life will allow me to be, sweet daughter."
The younger female frowned at the answer. She pulled the comfortable chair even closer to her mother's, almost sitting side by side in their chairs.
They sat together in a moment of comfortable silence, looking at the purple and pink streaked sky as the sun set in the distance.
Curiosity won over the young woman and took a deep breath as she spoke her next words. "I'm sorry I asked you about your past, Momma. But please continue... You have to do this, you have to tell someone. You started half way and it was too confusing. You must start from the beginning if I'm ever to understand you." She said softly.
The older woman sighed in defeat, "I know Bra-chan, I know... But the memories haunt me so much." She closed her eyes and gripped her daughters hand tightly.
Bra smiled sadly, she placed a gentle kiss on her mother's cheek in an effort to comfort her further. "Try to be strong Momma, it won't be long before..." she trailed off unknowingly. The ominous statement hung in the air from the hidden meaning.
Bulma opened her eyes and tilted her head as her eyes glanced back at her daughter, briefly. A ghost of a smile played on her lips. "Then I had better start from the beginning, if we are to ever finish this tale, Bra- chan."
Her daughter nodded vigorously, handing her a steaming mug of coffee. It would be a long night, they both knew that.
Bulma was about to speak, but then she paused. "I-I can't recall the memories off hand, daughter. That's why I just skipped so much. But I remember now that I have an aid... It is under the bed, in a box. It is a diary of my memories. Bring it here and I will read it to you." It had occurred to her that she had kept a diary in her tumultuous time on Vegita- sei, the only thing that bound her to the past in more ways than one.
She watched quietly as her daughter stood and retrieved the hidden diary. As it was placed into her hands, Bulma grew overwhelmed with the emotions she felt. Staring at the thick straw cover, she inhaled sharply and lightly thumbed the thick papyrus book, growing more and more agitated as sirens of screams began to ring in her ears.
Trying to hush the horrific screams, she frowned and spoke softly, "I haven't held this diary since, since-" she broke off with a soft, small sob. Bulma shook as her daughters warm arms encircled her in an embracing and comforting hug.
"Shh, it's ok Momma. All of your ghosts will be laid to rest if you just let the past go, you have to move on and this is the only way you can do it." As her daughter's soothing voice calmed the raging storm in the older woman, Bulma slowly opened the thick diary.
Her eyes skimmed over the beautiful and slanted handwriting as she flicked through its pages. She hadn't touched it in so many years. She thought that if she touched it, all of her past ghosts would rise up to haunt her again and never leave her in peace. But as she leafed through the pages, relief washed over her as the ghosts of her past did not show themselves.
Bra watched her mother thumb through the book in apprehension, as though it were the black plague itself. Her throat grew dry as her mother's hand touched the very first page of the diary. Bra had known about the diary, but had never dared to sneak a look at what was inside.
She knew her mother would never forgive if she did. But she was ready to hear this, and her mother had agreed to finally speak of her cursed past. Bra was ready to hear her mother's story and she was ready to hear her own legacy. She shut her large cerulean eyes and waited for her mother to continue.
A moment of pain coursed through Bulma's veins, causing her to wince inwardly as she read the contents of the first page alone, before reciting it to her daughter.
Bulma knew he was coming and that he was coming for her. She also knew that he would tear her away from this perfect world, like he had done before and that he would cast her daughter aside like a rag doll.
Gathering up a small amount of courage, she drew a deep breath and spoke in a hushed tone to the setting sun, rather than her daughter, imagining she wasn't there so that the memories wouldn't be so painful to have her daughter know the truth of the monstrous life she had been pulled into.
It seemed so much easier to do that.
Bulma's soft and weary voice echoed through the spacious room as she read from the lavender tinted pages of the diary.
The diary that had been the only savior in her most darkest hours.
~*~
12/15/3001. (DB).
"I don't know why I'm even writing in this fucking thing. What is the point? What is the point at all? Karja says it will ease my pain, but what does she know? She doesn't know shit... No, I shouldn't say things like that. She's the one that helped to save me, along with Son-kun...
As you can see, I'm angry. Hell, I've always had a temper, but today it has been exceptionally bad. It is my birthday and I received this diary as a present from Karja. She is a slave and my friend, my only true friend in this living nightmare. I'm covertly pissed off at... Him. I can't even write his name without wanting to gut his innards with a spoon for all that he has done to me.
You are probably wondering who I am talking about. I speak of my master, the only reason that I am even here and writing this down.
I suppose I should start from the beginning.
My name is Bulma. Bulma Briefs of Chikyuu-sei. I was the daughter of an ingenious man who was a scientist, and I had a kind and loving mother. I had everything a girl could ever wish for, but like all good things, it finally came to an end.
I lost everything I owned or had, I lost my family and friends on the day a blood thirsty warrior race decided to descend upon our peaceful planet. I'm not bitter, or I'm rather I am not bitter any longer but that doesn't mean I wasn't.
Five years is quite a long time for a person to change, to grow and adapt. I was twenty when they burned our planet alive. I can't even talk about it, for I know I will only work myself into a dark rage.
I feel myself slipping with each day that passes here on this horrendous world. Each day is like a battle to survive, to keep myself from dying in spirit and mind. I feel as though insanity is just a step away from where I stand. I fear that if I step any closer to it, I will be ensnared in its grasp forever.
That is the reason why I choose not to remember my planet, but-but it can't be helped! I must tell someone what it was like there, I can't let my race die out because if I do, I'll never forgive myself. Perhaps you are the only one to whom I will be able to speak about my planet.
I cannot utter any words of my previous life before this one, it hurts too much to voice them and I fall into an unaccountable sorrow each time I try to speak of it. But I am not so impaired that I cannot write about my planet or my past.
Gods, our planet was beautiful. I can still remember what it looks like, even to this day, five years on. It was full of rich vegetation, rain forests, deserts, pure white ice lands, anything you could have imagined. It was all there, on one planet. I smile as I remember the wildlife, the delicate feathered birds and the large mammals and reptiles that lived in a cycle of life. I pine for their loss, what harm had they done to die in such a God-awful way?
I distinctly remember Papa telling me, when I was at the age of sixteen, that my eyes mirrored the sky of our planet. I had laughed and waved his comment away, as though I were swatting a fly. I told him, "The sky of Chikyuu-sei is much prettier than my eyes, Papa."
He laughed and said, "Believe what you wish princess." As though he saw something with his wise eyes, that I didn't.
I frowned at him and stomped my foot, as any other foul-tempered teenager that hated to be belittled, would have done. "But Papa!" I yelled, "Just look at the sky, you can't tell me that it's not pretty!"
His eyes twinkled in merriment. I think he enjoyed my little tantrums. "Bul-chan, when you grow older, your eyes will be the greatest asset to yield power upon any lesser man. They will be your savior."
He couldn't have been more right.
But my eyes were a curse to me on the day I was taken.
I had just turned twenty when they came. It had been like any other day on my home planet. I had been in my father's laboratory, trying to diagnose a problem he had caused in the computers' main system. Papa had always been clumsy when it came to computers. I wonder how such an ingenious man could have been so IT illiterate.
He preferred to work on his black board like a crazed Einstein, working out calculations and schematics, using chalk. I told him that one day, the added inhalation of chalk dust and tar from his cigarettes, would fuse in his lungs and choke him to death...
I can't believe I said that to him. But I was angry with him for ruining the formulae on the computer and as he lit a cigarette, I lost it. I always hated it when he smoked, and he knew it, but he never stopped. I yelled at him to leave the lab, even though I knew he was endangering no one by smoking in the computer room of the lab. He left with his head hung in shame, with the cigarette doused out.
To this day I ask Kami why he never spared my father's life as he had spared mine.
I never do get an answer.
I had just finished reprogramming the computers in the underground lab when I heard a strange bang coming from above. I grinned and thought to myself that it would be Goku, he was incredibly powerful for a sixteen year old. We could never figure out why he had a tale when we found him in our large garden. He was unconscious when we found him, lying in a strange pod.
My father took the pod, examined it and the boy inside. We found out that he wasn't from this planet, and that his ship had malfunctioned and crash landed on our planet. I warned my father not to inform the government about any of our findings and he had agreed. We raised him in our family and he was like a little brother to me, but as he grew older, he became restless with nervous energy.
We sent him to skilled fighter, an older man named Gohan, so that Goku could be trained to fight, under his knowledge. Papa knew him through an old acquaintance and was told that Gohan-san had been an extremely powerful man in his younger days and that he could help Goku to harness his power. It was something we were all in awe of.
When Gohan-san passed away, Goku took the man's second name in loving memory of his kindness, so that he would live on in his heart. Goku, or Son-kun as we now called him, came back to us with a heavy heart. It was the first death he had witnessed. As he cried in my arms, I told him that everyone had to die sometime, it was the way Kami had designed it to be.
He looked up at me through his tears and smiled sadly, "Bul-chan, I'm going to miss him."
I had simply gazed back at him with a sorrowful smile on my lips and ran my hand through the hard jutting spikes that were his hair. "I know you will Son-kun, but just think that he is in a better place now." He smiled and kissed my cheek softly.
"I'm glad that you are with me, Sister." His voice was soft and loving, of a sweetness that I would have never been able to grasp.
I chuckled as I jumped into the elevator and made my way upwards, to the main entrance of our home.
I was left speechless by what I saw when I walked through each room of my once beautiful home.
The entire place had been ransacked, turned upside down as though a tornado had blown through the room. I ran into the kitchen, suddenly worried for the safety of my family. But I knew nothing would happen to them. Son-kun was a strong boy, he could protect us.
I could hear shouts coming from outside of the dome building that had been my home for the past twenty years. I gasped and raced to the sliding glass doors of our kitchen that led out to our large garden, my mother's garden. From behind the glass doors, I looked on his horror as Son-kun was tossed into a nearby tree, he lay there not moving a muscle.
Cruel laughter danced its way towards me and I looked up to see five, lumbering men towering over my mother's blue violets. They landed, one by one, with a loud thump as they crushed my mother's flowers.
From the corner of where they stood, I heard my mother sob out in frustration and anger as they destroyed her beautiful flowers. My mother was almost never angry, and that was a cause to worry even more.
I was too mesmerized by the men to take notice of my mother's whimpering cries. I was complete awe of their sheer size and I knew without a shadow of doubt, they were from another planet. What caught my eye, was the brown furry tails peeking out from behind their armored bodies. Just like Son- kun!! But I never had time to dwell on that thought.
I can remember the look in their eyes to this very day. Such cold, bone- chilling eyes. It was as though their souls were burning in hate and rage beneath those dark eyes. They had not noticed me standing behind the glass doors.
My mouth hung open as one of them stalked towards my mother, who was now on her knees and weeping for her loss flowers it seemed, and something else that I couldn't quite make out from my position. Perhaps she was weeping for our dog, Wee. And I wondered if he had been killed in the cross fire between Son-kun and the large men with the black hair that fell down his back like a waterfall.
I yelled through the thick glass doors as the man with the lion's mane for hair, grabbed my mother by her hair. They couldn't hear me yelling, the glass was designed in such a way that it was sound proof from the outside.
No one could hear the noise from the inside, but noise from the outside could be heard. I desperately tried to unlock the door, but my fingers fumbled clumsily over the latch. I couldn't seem to control my movements, that was how much the terror had blinded me.
I watched in fear as my mother was rattled by her neck as though she were a trouble-making dog. I finally managed to unlock the door, grabbing the baseball bat that was miraculously there. It was my boyfriend Yamcha's, baseball bat, he was supposed be playing professionally that summer...
I ran out like a girl on a mission. I was screaming, screeching and yelling like a bat out of hell with the baseball bat raised above my head. It was certainly a sight to have seen.
It may seem funny as I'm describing it now, but it wasn't funny when it was actually happening before my very eyes.
You try watching a grown man shake and strangle your mother as though she were a hound, and then tell me if you find it funny. The other four men were surprised to see me, but they hung back in some kind of sick amusement, as I careened the baseball bat against my mother's captor. I hit him squarely in the head.
It didn't do a damn thing.
In fact, I could have sworn I had broken my hand in the process of slugging the bastard. He turned to me with a cold and calculating look. A look that read 'I'm going to kill you bitch'
I backed away like a gaping fish, feigning defeat, before I tried to hit him again. This time, he was ready for me and grasped the bat in one meaty hand. I gasped as he crushed the bat with his bare hand.
"Who are you?" I whispered as I was backed up against a tree. The five men were crowding around me and it seemed as though there was no way to escape.
They laughed at me.
Gods, I can even hear their laughter to this day. It haunts me at every waking moment, even five years on.
I cringed as they laughed and I turned my head, not able to look at them any longer. A flash of red passed across my vision, and through their bodies I finally saw my father lying on the ground with a wound in his chest. He was writhing in agony, his body convulsed as large amounts of blood seeped out, onto the grass below him. I sobbed out and fell to my knees, gasping for breath like him, only I wasn't the one who was dying.
The men looked over to where my attention was held and they laughed again. The prison that their bodies had created for me, separated like a gate, as though they were graciously allowing me to have my final moments with him.
I crawled like over to his slain body and felt the tears stream down my face.
"PAPA!" I cried, taking his head into my lap. I sobbed with grief as my Papa lay in a pool of his own blood. This was not the way he was supposed to die! He was supposed to die an old man, in his bed with his grandchildren around him. Not lying in a pool of his own blood. It was such a shock to see him lying there, almost dead in my arms.
I leaned down and touched my lips to his bloodied cheeks. It was then that I could feel myself slipping, with each dying breath he took. "Papa," I whispered against his cheek softly. I could feel five pairs of cruel eyes on me, but I ignored them. All I could see was my father. "I'm sorry I yelled at you Papa," I murmured against his cheek, my own tears falling upon his cheeks as though they were his. But he was not crying. I still wonder about that.
He took a ragged breath and whispered something that only I could hear. "Live, Bul-chan. You can survive, along with Son-kun. My... Princess." I choked back a strangled cry as his eyes grew still, no longer was there any life held in the blue orbs that were an exact match to mine. All I could see was an imprinted image of great loss in my father's dead eyes. I wanted to shake him awake. I wanted to scream at him to wake up.
But I didn't. I couldn't.
I gently laid his head back down on the grass, still in a sense of shock and I clung to his still body like a little girl, weeping from the loss. I was grief stricken as I uttered my next words.
"Come back Papa, come back, you have to come back. You can't leave me, I'll be a good girl from now on, I promise I won't yell at you, please come back... I promise to be a good girl. I-I'll always be your good little girl, if you come back, Papa." My voice had retreated back fifteen years, I sounded like a wounded five year old child as I sobbed into his chest.
And then, I knew nothing.
A comforting black void surrounded me, but before I lost complete control of my grip on reality, I heard a harsh voice laugh and say, "Pathetic Dait- jins, so weak with emotions! Their race should never have survived. It is a good thing we came upon this planet."
And my mind screamed, I struggled not to lose consciousness from the shock I felt. Dait-jin?!? What the fuck was a Dait-jin? We were Chikyuu-jin, not-not Dait-jin. But I lost myself in the black void before I could say anything. And as I fell back into the warm and black abyss, I wondered what had happened to my mother and Son-kun...
Heavens upon me, I cry as I write about the last moments I had with my father. My brave, handsome, brilliant Papa... Why does death always hurt so much? The conversation I had with Son-kun keeps coming back to me, of when I told him that everyone had to die, that it was part of Kami's great design.
Bitter tears are rolling down my cheeks as I write now, I cannot stop them. I haven't cried for three solid years and now... As I write this, I cry for the first time in those three long and arduous years.
There is so much pain and hate in my tears, I fear my cheeks will burn from the hate that each tear holds.
I-I cannot write anymore, I feel myself drowning with the memory of my father's death. I must find a way to block it out. I must destroy the memory, but I don't know how to...
Kami help me, but I know my life will never be the same as it was on Chikyuu-sei. I will never smile upon my Papa again, never have him hug me...
It is dark now in the small room that has been given to me. I belong to someone now. My master. I have to leave this room and join him in his own bed. Yes, I do belong to him, but-but I don't want to think about him. He is... He is not a good person. He is the reason I was so angry today. He is a cruel bastard, so heartless.
I've never met a man such as he, I wouldn't even classify him as a man. He has showered me with gifts and luxuries for the past five years, which I cast aside as they hold no meaning to me. His appearance is pleasing but he hurts me in so many ways, that I have lost count of all the times I have been hurt and I cannot look upon his face without a shudder of hatred coursing through my blood.
And he wonders why I do not show him affection. I wanted to laugh out loud when he spoke of affection, but that story will soon come in its own time. I would rather swallow my own bile and have myself riddled with lashes than show him any of my true feelings. I am nothing but a walking, breathing doll to him and he was the cause. He is a bad, bad man.
And one of these days, I will kill him.
I know I will..."
~*~
Bra shuddered in fear as her mother's voice trailed off. She could hear a tinge of insanity in the words that her mother had written. It was there on the surface of her words, ready to jump out at any given moment. "There was a thin line of love and hate between you and your master, right Momma?"
She was trying to justify what her mother had said before she had read the first entry of her diary. Somehow her mother had grown to love her Master and so Bra was confused by the hate she held for him in the first entry.
Bulma flinched at the mention of... Him. "Yes Bra-chan," she said quietly, "A very thin line. He was, oh Kami, he was a horrid man... But I felt-" She broke off, a disgusted shudder shook her small body. She grabbed her daughter's hands. "Don't you ever leave me Bra-chan!" She cried out, as though Bra was actually going to leave her.
Bra's arms were around her once again. "I'm here, Momma. I'm never going to leave you. Please go on." She placed her head on her mother's shoulder, hugging her tightly.
She was the only thing in Bulma's life that anchored her to her sanity. "I hope so, daughter... I hope so." The heavy statement hung in the air as Bulma raised her hand to turn the page.
She stared at her next entry, tears brimming in her eyes as she tried to hold onto some semblance of reality. She desperately tried to tell herself that she was here with her daughter and that she was no longer with the man that was her Master.
But all the comforting feelings disappeared as she continued to read the contents of the next page.
Would she survive through the hateful memories of him? Of the odd, binding relationship they had once shared?
She didn't know.
~*~
After so much suffering,
I finally found the unvarnished truth.
I was all by myself,
For the longest time,
So cold inside...
I felt like dying.
~*~
AN: Ok so did it stink? Was it a total pile of crap? Hated it? Or did you even like it and want more?
Review and let me know! I will put up the next chapter tomorrow.
*Heartless*