Disclaimer: I don't own DBZ, I don't own that shoe over there *stares at
shoe* and I don't own my very own life-size Trunks figure. But I wish I did
own all that. except for the.. shoe..ya know? Cause it probably..smells O.o
_____________________________
Weep Not For The Memories
_____________________________
(CHAPTER ONE: Fearing Life)
Everywhere I turned there he was...
I couldn't escape...
Trapped in a corner pleading for my life...
No one heard my pleas...
I suppose mom did...
I bet Bra was wondering why I was screaming so loud...
Screams of pain and sorrow...
"Get up." My father commanded coldly, I could barely move, blood dripping down from every inch of my body. I couldn't feel my right arm any more, but I was grateful at the time just to be given a few seconds to breath and take in all the pain.
"I said.. GET UP!!" He ordered me once more, I guess I had no choice I had to try and stand up now. Or he might try and kill me again, just like last time. I summoned all my strength and tried to force my legs to move. I was moving, my legs and arms were so shaky though, it took me a good 20 seconds to finally stand up straight, but I did. My father just stood there staring at me like I was some sort of diseased animal, waiting to be put out of my misery.
And I was waiting for him to do so too, I would have rather him have killed me right then and there. Than have gone through all the beatings I had in my short 7 years on Earth. - "Say something.." he commanded harshly. What was there to say? I felt like breaking down in tears and running to my mom. I don't think I'd of have the strength to even run though. All I could do was just look up at him with pleading eyes.
"I TOLD YOU TO SPEAK!" He yelled as he slapped me across my face with all his might, or at least it felt like all of it. "NOW SPEAK!!" He had torn some of the flesh on my cheek apart with that mighty blow, as I lay there on the ground again placing my hand over the side of my face and watching the blood drip from my finger tips. I couldn't take it any more, I began feeling as if I were going to pass out.
Just as he placed his foot down on my rib cage and began crushing it, the more weight he placed down on me the more I screamed out for my mom in sorrow, and she could hear me too- I know she could. Why didn't she come? He only laughed at me until we both heard a *crack* noise come from inside me, A broken arm and a broken rib cage all in one night, I've gone through worse.
"Still not going to talk to me, eh boy?" My father smirked mischievously; the fear of knowing he hadn't had enough of torturing me forced me to finally speak up.
"Please..." I stopped in the middle of each word either to breath or sob "Don't..hurt...me... anymore...daddy..."
He stared at me with those accusing eyes as if I had done something to deserve all this; I even started to believe I deserved it after while. And just when I thought I was safe, he lifted me in the air by my shirt collar and said.. "Don't you ever call me 'daddy' again!" and with that he threw me into the closet door and began to make his way out of my room.
"I'm not your father brat, I would never have raised such a disgrace as you are. Your worthless." He slammed the door behind him, leaving me all alone in my dark and lonely room. I curled up into a ball and began to cry my heart out, lying there in a puddle of blood waiting for my mother to come in and bandage me- as she often did I after I had been beaten. But she never came. And that only brought more misery to me, she's all I have in this world. She must hate me too...
The next morning Bulma came into her son's room only to find him sleeping siltently atop dried blood stains in the carpet. She turned him over on his back, looking at his sweet little face ::My sweet little Trunks:: she began to cry to herself, as the tiny drops of water gently rolled down the sides of her sons face. Trunks began to wake up, realizing he was in his mother's arms. He looked up at her and smiled, Bulma, realising he had come to- only cried harder and louder. "I'm so sorry baby!" She sobbed as she held him tightly in her arms.
"Don't be.." Trunks whispered, his small, soft voice comforting to her. But she didn't respond, instead she just went on holding him tightly in her sheltering arms. Thinking about how she had just spent last night clutching her newborn in her arms as she lay on her bed, listening to her son's screams for help. And as he screamed for her to come save him, and how that hurt her the most because she knew that there was nothing she could do to protect her son from her husband. Bulma had already suggested divorce to Vegeta and been beaten for it, and she was far too afraid of him to just pack up and leave. She knew he'd find her and the children eventually.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." Bulma suggested as a tiny smile found it's way across her lips. She couldn't help but grin when she saw Trunks smiling up at her. She took his tiny blistered and battle-worn hand and led him into the bathroom to give him a bath. After bulma got Trunks all clean and bandaged up she heard Bra crying in her bedroom.
"Ohh!" Sighed Bulma in annoyance- "Trunks sweetie you just sit down at the table and I'll fix you breakfast, just let me go get your little sister." Bulma assured him as she walked off into the hallway. Trunks sat down at the kitchen table, patiently waiting for his mother to return, swinging his legs back and forth under the table. Just as Bulma entered her bedroom to get Bra she was startled by her husband's presence. She was quick to grab the baby.
"Oh, sorry I didn't know you were up yet." Bulma explained apologetically.
"I've been up." Vegeta answered coldly. "That little brat kept me up all night with her constant kicking and drooling." He referred to his daughter.
"Sorry, she needed a place to sleep though. And I wasn't about to force her out on the couch."
"Why didn't you just put her in the damned crib?"
"Her room was occupied last night, incase you didn't notice." Bulma snapped. "I doubt she would have been able to sleep in there."
Vegeta only scowled his famous scowl and walked out of the room not even giving his wife or daughter a second glance.
Bulma only rolled her eyes and laid Bra down on the bed- "How about a diaper change sweet-cake?" She asked Bra cheerfully as she tickled her stomach. Bra only giggled as she welcomed the new diaper.
Trunks was still waiting for his breakfast at the table as his father walked in. Vegeta scanned his son's new bandages over, one rapped around his arm, another around his forehead, and a seemingly "tight", wide bandage around his rib cage. Trunks wasn't wearing a shirt at the time because Bulma hadn't found one out of the laundry for him yet. Also the cuts and bruises on his face, arm, and legs were easily taken to notice. Vegeta never does the job only half way through, he always finishes what he starts.
Vegeta was quick to grab the newspaper and sit down at the table, opposite from Trunks. He noticed that Trunks was just sitting there not doing or eating anything. "What are you doing brat?" he asked coldly, not really sounding interested in hearing the answer.
At first Trunks was almost afraid to talk to him- "I..I'm waiting for mom t..to..fix m..me breakf..fast." Trunks stuttered nervously, never looking his father in the eye. "Your telling me you can't even fix yourself a fucking bowl of cereal?!?" Vegeta raised his voice. "Stop burdening your mother with these trivial tasks and grow up!!"
Trunks only began shaking again, unsure what to say or do. "Jesus, are you that retarded Trunks?!" Vegeta screamed at him.
"N..no sir.." Trunks mumbled.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Vegeta stood up from his chair, his eyes widening with anger.
"No sir!" He hollered.
"Didn't our little talk last night teach you anything boy?" Vegeta questioned in annoyance -he was about ready to roll up his sleeves and beat him again.
"I'm sure it was very educational for him Vegeta, but I volunteered to fix our 7-year-old breakfast so please sit down." Bulma interrupted as she stepped into the kitchen, Bra still in her arms.
Vegeta cursed something under his breath as she glared evilly at his son and sat back down.
"Do you think your up to going to school today sweat-heart?" Bulma asked Trunks softly, as she handed him his plate.
"Yeah." Trunks replied weakly.
"Are you sure?"
"The blasted child said yes woman!" Vegeta blurted out as Bulma handed him his plate of eggs.
"Alright then.." Bulma breathed in annoyance as she sat Bra down in her high-chair.
"When your finished with your breakfast, go get your backpack, I laid out an outfit for you on your bed." Bulma told Trunks as she began rinsing out the frying pan she used to cook with.
"Okay." Trunks answered. "I'm not really hungry anyway."
Vegeta glared at him. "Your mother went through the trouble of making you breakfast and your going to eat it you ungrateful brat!!" Vegeta hollered at him.
"Vegeta! It's okay.." Bulma raised her voice. "Your not hungry sweetie?"
Trunks just shook his head "no". "Well the least you can do is clear off your plate and bring it to your mother." Vegeta growled.
"No, no! It's all right- you don't want to be late Trunks, just go get ready!" She urged him.
Trunks helped himself down off the chair and slwoly disapeared into the hallway. "You shouldn't treat the brat that way you know, he doesn't deserve to be escorted around like royalty." Vegeta scowled.
"You know Vegeta..." Bulma began angrily- but couldn't find the courage to finish her sentence.
"What?" Vegeta snorted.
Bulma clenched her fist in her hand as she broiled with anger. -"Forget it." She sighed. "I'll be home in a few minutes."
"C'mon Trunks!" Bulma hurried her son. --
Later that day after Trunks had already arrived at school- He had passed out during gym-class and was lying down on the nurse's table.
"Uuuuhhh..." Trunks moaned as he sat up. "Where am I?"
"Hi there!" greeted the nurse. "Your in the nurse's office, I'm the nurse!" she said cheerfully, a middle western accent.
"It seems you passed out during the first few minutes of your Physical Education class." She explained. "Poor dear.. are you okay?"
"Yes.." Trunks stopped to cough "I'm fine." He frowned. "Can I go back to my class now?"
"Oh sweeite, your class is over. School will be end'in in just a few.."
"How long have I been here?" He asked softly. "Oh.. I'd say about.. 2 hours." The nurse smiled. "Now sweet-heart where'd you get all these bumps'n bruises, hmm?" she asked suspiciously.
"Uuumm... from... I.. I fell down the stair case at home and.. crashed into the piano." Trunks lied; he knew better than to tell other people about what his father did to him, of course he wasn't sure why he knew better. But nonetheless he did.
"hhmm.. Are you sure honey?" The nurse questioned, not buying his staircase story. "You know, it's always good to tell the truth! Especially to teachers and nurses at your school." The nurse grinned, trying to convince the boy to tell her he was being abused.
"But I just did tell you the truth." Trunks acted innocently enough.
"Well alright honey, but if 'bad' is happening to you or any other family member in your home.. you just dial the number on this here card with your telephone. And the people on the other line will help you, understand?" The nurse explained as she handed Trunks a child-abuse-support-group card.
"Yes, thank you." Trunks smiled at her, it was no use in pretending now. She knew what was going on.
"Do you have someone to pick you up? Or do you ride the bus home?" She called out to him as he walked down the hall.
"No, my mom is picking me up!!" He hollered back.
"Alright button, you take care!" she smiled, faded worry in her tone.
Trunks sat out on the steps of the school, the bell had rung only 5 minutes ago so he figured he'd just sit while he waited for her. He couldn't wait to get home and just relax, he had -had a rough day. Even if your not including gym-class. He thought he spotted his mom's car a couple of times but turned out to be someone else's parents instead. Time flew by as he waited and before he knew it the front yard was empty and he was the only one still waiting. He looked up at the school clock.. ::4:30:: he read to himself wondering where his mom could be. He started imagining all the horrible things that could have happened to her. ::What if she got into an accident?:: or ::What if dad did something to her?:: her couldn't bare the thought of her leaving him. He needed her like he needed air; she was the only one who really cared about him, she was his everything...
He pulled his knees close to his chest trying to remember good times he had once shared with his mom when he was younger. He remembered running on the beach with her when he had just turned 6 and how much fun it was. How at peace he felt with just her and him building sand castles and laughing together. He missed that. Begining to cry thinking that he might never get to run on the beach and play with his mom again. ::Why me?:: he just let the tears stream down his face as he sat there,
waiting...
(((A~N~ chappie two coming soon! Lemme know what ya think so far!! In the next chapter we'll see what happenes when Goku finds out about Vegeta's abusing Trunks.
That is if I get enough reviews!!)))
_____________________________
Weep Not For The Memories
_____________________________
(CHAPTER ONE: Fearing Life)
Everywhere I turned there he was...
I couldn't escape...
Trapped in a corner pleading for my life...
No one heard my pleas...
I suppose mom did...
I bet Bra was wondering why I was screaming so loud...
Screams of pain and sorrow...
"Get up." My father commanded coldly, I could barely move, blood dripping down from every inch of my body. I couldn't feel my right arm any more, but I was grateful at the time just to be given a few seconds to breath and take in all the pain.
"I said.. GET UP!!" He ordered me once more, I guess I had no choice I had to try and stand up now. Or he might try and kill me again, just like last time. I summoned all my strength and tried to force my legs to move. I was moving, my legs and arms were so shaky though, it took me a good 20 seconds to finally stand up straight, but I did. My father just stood there staring at me like I was some sort of diseased animal, waiting to be put out of my misery.
And I was waiting for him to do so too, I would have rather him have killed me right then and there. Than have gone through all the beatings I had in my short 7 years on Earth. - "Say something.." he commanded harshly. What was there to say? I felt like breaking down in tears and running to my mom. I don't think I'd of have the strength to even run though. All I could do was just look up at him with pleading eyes.
"I TOLD YOU TO SPEAK!" He yelled as he slapped me across my face with all his might, or at least it felt like all of it. "NOW SPEAK!!" He had torn some of the flesh on my cheek apart with that mighty blow, as I lay there on the ground again placing my hand over the side of my face and watching the blood drip from my finger tips. I couldn't take it any more, I began feeling as if I were going to pass out.
Just as he placed his foot down on my rib cage and began crushing it, the more weight he placed down on me the more I screamed out for my mom in sorrow, and she could hear me too- I know she could. Why didn't she come? He only laughed at me until we both heard a *crack* noise come from inside me, A broken arm and a broken rib cage all in one night, I've gone through worse.
"Still not going to talk to me, eh boy?" My father smirked mischievously; the fear of knowing he hadn't had enough of torturing me forced me to finally speak up.
"Please..." I stopped in the middle of each word either to breath or sob "Don't..hurt...me... anymore...daddy..."
He stared at me with those accusing eyes as if I had done something to deserve all this; I even started to believe I deserved it after while. And just when I thought I was safe, he lifted me in the air by my shirt collar and said.. "Don't you ever call me 'daddy' again!" and with that he threw me into the closet door and began to make his way out of my room.
"I'm not your father brat, I would never have raised such a disgrace as you are. Your worthless." He slammed the door behind him, leaving me all alone in my dark and lonely room. I curled up into a ball and began to cry my heart out, lying there in a puddle of blood waiting for my mother to come in and bandage me- as she often did I after I had been beaten. But she never came. And that only brought more misery to me, she's all I have in this world. She must hate me too...
The next morning Bulma came into her son's room only to find him sleeping siltently atop dried blood stains in the carpet. She turned him over on his back, looking at his sweet little face ::My sweet little Trunks:: she began to cry to herself, as the tiny drops of water gently rolled down the sides of her sons face. Trunks began to wake up, realizing he was in his mother's arms. He looked up at her and smiled, Bulma, realising he had come to- only cried harder and louder. "I'm so sorry baby!" She sobbed as she held him tightly in her arms.
"Don't be.." Trunks whispered, his small, soft voice comforting to her. But she didn't respond, instead she just went on holding him tightly in her sheltering arms. Thinking about how she had just spent last night clutching her newborn in her arms as she lay on her bed, listening to her son's screams for help. And as he screamed for her to come save him, and how that hurt her the most because she knew that there was nothing she could do to protect her son from her husband. Bulma had already suggested divorce to Vegeta and been beaten for it, and she was far too afraid of him to just pack up and leave. She knew he'd find her and the children eventually.
"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up." Bulma suggested as a tiny smile found it's way across her lips. She couldn't help but grin when she saw Trunks smiling up at her. She took his tiny blistered and battle-worn hand and led him into the bathroom to give him a bath. After bulma got Trunks all clean and bandaged up she heard Bra crying in her bedroom.
"Ohh!" Sighed Bulma in annoyance- "Trunks sweetie you just sit down at the table and I'll fix you breakfast, just let me go get your little sister." Bulma assured him as she walked off into the hallway. Trunks sat down at the kitchen table, patiently waiting for his mother to return, swinging his legs back and forth under the table. Just as Bulma entered her bedroom to get Bra she was startled by her husband's presence. She was quick to grab the baby.
"Oh, sorry I didn't know you were up yet." Bulma explained apologetically.
"I've been up." Vegeta answered coldly. "That little brat kept me up all night with her constant kicking and drooling." He referred to his daughter.
"Sorry, she needed a place to sleep though. And I wasn't about to force her out on the couch."
"Why didn't you just put her in the damned crib?"
"Her room was occupied last night, incase you didn't notice." Bulma snapped. "I doubt she would have been able to sleep in there."
Vegeta only scowled his famous scowl and walked out of the room not even giving his wife or daughter a second glance.
Bulma only rolled her eyes and laid Bra down on the bed- "How about a diaper change sweet-cake?" She asked Bra cheerfully as she tickled her stomach. Bra only giggled as she welcomed the new diaper.
Trunks was still waiting for his breakfast at the table as his father walked in. Vegeta scanned his son's new bandages over, one rapped around his arm, another around his forehead, and a seemingly "tight", wide bandage around his rib cage. Trunks wasn't wearing a shirt at the time because Bulma hadn't found one out of the laundry for him yet. Also the cuts and bruises on his face, arm, and legs were easily taken to notice. Vegeta never does the job only half way through, he always finishes what he starts.
Vegeta was quick to grab the newspaper and sit down at the table, opposite from Trunks. He noticed that Trunks was just sitting there not doing or eating anything. "What are you doing brat?" he asked coldly, not really sounding interested in hearing the answer.
At first Trunks was almost afraid to talk to him- "I..I'm waiting for mom t..to..fix m..me breakf..fast." Trunks stuttered nervously, never looking his father in the eye. "Your telling me you can't even fix yourself a fucking bowl of cereal?!?" Vegeta raised his voice. "Stop burdening your mother with these trivial tasks and grow up!!"
Trunks only began shaking again, unsure what to say or do. "Jesus, are you that retarded Trunks?!" Vegeta screamed at him.
"N..no sir.." Trunks mumbled.
"WHAT WAS THAT?!" Vegeta stood up from his chair, his eyes widening with anger.
"No sir!" He hollered.
"Didn't our little talk last night teach you anything boy?" Vegeta questioned in annoyance -he was about ready to roll up his sleeves and beat him again.
"I'm sure it was very educational for him Vegeta, but I volunteered to fix our 7-year-old breakfast so please sit down." Bulma interrupted as she stepped into the kitchen, Bra still in her arms.
Vegeta cursed something under his breath as she glared evilly at his son and sat back down.
"Do you think your up to going to school today sweat-heart?" Bulma asked Trunks softly, as she handed him his plate.
"Yeah." Trunks replied weakly.
"Are you sure?"
"The blasted child said yes woman!" Vegeta blurted out as Bulma handed him his plate of eggs.
"Alright then.." Bulma breathed in annoyance as she sat Bra down in her high-chair.
"When your finished with your breakfast, go get your backpack, I laid out an outfit for you on your bed." Bulma told Trunks as she began rinsing out the frying pan she used to cook with.
"Okay." Trunks answered. "I'm not really hungry anyway."
Vegeta glared at him. "Your mother went through the trouble of making you breakfast and your going to eat it you ungrateful brat!!" Vegeta hollered at him.
"Vegeta! It's okay.." Bulma raised her voice. "Your not hungry sweetie?"
Trunks just shook his head "no". "Well the least you can do is clear off your plate and bring it to your mother." Vegeta growled.
"No, no! It's all right- you don't want to be late Trunks, just go get ready!" She urged him.
Trunks helped himself down off the chair and slwoly disapeared into the hallway. "You shouldn't treat the brat that way you know, he doesn't deserve to be escorted around like royalty." Vegeta scowled.
"You know Vegeta..." Bulma began angrily- but couldn't find the courage to finish her sentence.
"What?" Vegeta snorted.
Bulma clenched her fist in her hand as she broiled with anger. -"Forget it." She sighed. "I'll be home in a few minutes."
"C'mon Trunks!" Bulma hurried her son. --
Later that day after Trunks had already arrived at school- He had passed out during gym-class and was lying down on the nurse's table.
"Uuuuhhh..." Trunks moaned as he sat up. "Where am I?"
"Hi there!" greeted the nurse. "Your in the nurse's office, I'm the nurse!" she said cheerfully, a middle western accent.
"It seems you passed out during the first few minutes of your Physical Education class." She explained. "Poor dear.. are you okay?"
"Yes.." Trunks stopped to cough "I'm fine." He frowned. "Can I go back to my class now?"
"Oh sweeite, your class is over. School will be end'in in just a few.."
"How long have I been here?" He asked softly. "Oh.. I'd say about.. 2 hours." The nurse smiled. "Now sweet-heart where'd you get all these bumps'n bruises, hmm?" she asked suspiciously.
"Uuumm... from... I.. I fell down the stair case at home and.. crashed into the piano." Trunks lied; he knew better than to tell other people about what his father did to him, of course he wasn't sure why he knew better. But nonetheless he did.
"hhmm.. Are you sure honey?" The nurse questioned, not buying his staircase story. "You know, it's always good to tell the truth! Especially to teachers and nurses at your school." The nurse grinned, trying to convince the boy to tell her he was being abused.
"But I just did tell you the truth." Trunks acted innocently enough.
"Well alright honey, but if 'bad' is happening to you or any other family member in your home.. you just dial the number on this here card with your telephone. And the people on the other line will help you, understand?" The nurse explained as she handed Trunks a child-abuse-support-group card.
"Yes, thank you." Trunks smiled at her, it was no use in pretending now. She knew what was going on.
"Do you have someone to pick you up? Or do you ride the bus home?" She called out to him as he walked down the hall.
"No, my mom is picking me up!!" He hollered back.
"Alright button, you take care!" she smiled, faded worry in her tone.
Trunks sat out on the steps of the school, the bell had rung only 5 minutes ago so he figured he'd just sit while he waited for her. He couldn't wait to get home and just relax, he had -had a rough day. Even if your not including gym-class. He thought he spotted his mom's car a couple of times but turned out to be someone else's parents instead. Time flew by as he waited and before he knew it the front yard was empty and he was the only one still waiting. He looked up at the school clock.. ::4:30:: he read to himself wondering where his mom could be. He started imagining all the horrible things that could have happened to her. ::What if she got into an accident?:: or ::What if dad did something to her?:: her couldn't bare the thought of her leaving him. He needed her like he needed air; she was the only one who really cared about him, she was his everything...
He pulled his knees close to his chest trying to remember good times he had once shared with his mom when he was younger. He remembered running on the beach with her when he had just turned 6 and how much fun it was. How at peace he felt with just her and him building sand castles and laughing together. He missed that. Begining to cry thinking that he might never get to run on the beach and play with his mom again. ::Why me?:: he just let the tears stream down his face as he sat there,
waiting...
(((A~N~ chappie two coming soon! Lemme know what ya think so far!! In the next chapter we'll see what happenes when Goku finds out about Vegeta's abusing Trunks.
That is if I get enough reviews!!)))