by destiny to fight.
You just don't seem to understand. Or do you simply refuse to understand?
Can't you see anything beyond your collage browsers? Or you
self constructed image of what you believe my life is suppose to be?
You begged dad, more like ordered him, not to have me fight Cell. If I
hadn't
we'd all be dead now. But that doesn't matter to you does it? You don't
care. All you care about is weather or not I get into a top notch collage
or not.
Grandpa told me how you went on about how being a great fighter wasn't
going to help me get a decent job. You can't understand do you? This is
my
job. It's my task. To fight. To protect. Like dad did until the end.
I wonder. You say you love him. I honesty believe you think you do, and
I think,
some times, you were able to convince dad that too, and sometimes,
you were able to convice him that he loved you too.
It's not over mom. It's
never over. There's always a new threat on the horizon. We thought momentary
it was over with Radditz dead, then came
the warning of Vegeta and Nappa. Then Vegeta fled. We thought the danger
was over. Then we learned about Freeza. If not for the dragon balls . .
.
Then the battle with dad and that soulless tyrant. We all thought Freeza
was dead. Then he came back. Trunks, that Trunks from the future that almost
was, killed him as if he was nothing. But had come to warn us of another
threat. Androids #17 and #18. Then, came another threat. Cell. Who knows
what the next one is.
It turns my stomach to think
about that shameless con artist Mr. Satan making himself out to be the
slayer of Cell, making it so the world NEVER
knows what my dad did. NEVER knows that he gave his life to protect
this world. Not out of obligation or glory or even duty, but simply because
it
was the right thing to do. I toy with the idea of breaking that fraud's
neck, or at least pounding him to a pulp in front of his witless fans.
But he's
below me.
You keep screaming at me
to study. But I can't mom. I can't ever. We've been the fools once too
often for my tastes. Not again mom. Not again.
this time I'll be ready for this mystery enemy when it comes . . .
I sorry you can't understand that mom. I'm sorry you have to be so blind.
So self
induced ignorant of the cold hard facts of reality. (true reality,
not the illusion you've built up around me and yourself) I honesty feel
sorry for you.
"Gohan! Come back inside
this minute!" You snarl from inside the house.
"Sorry, I can't." I say
simply and take off not waiting for your predicable response.
You just don't seem to understand. Or do you simply refuse to understand?
Can't you see anything beyond your training room? Or you self
constructed image of what you believe my life is suppose to be?
"Trunks! Breaks over! Come
back inside now!" You snarl from inside the high gravity chamber. I obediently,
as always, drag myself back
inside.
I know I can't spell!
flames comments suggestions constructive criticism all welcome all welcome. Spelling corrections not welcome.
I already know I can spell!