We filed into the cafeteria and sat down in the rows of folding chairs. To be honest, the mess hall didn't look that different. It might have been too much of a task for the headmaster. I grinned.

Bulla, Marron, and I were basically the last girls to sit down, so we ended up behind Valese. Yay for us.

"Good morning, girls," Headmaster Johnson said. He didn't wait for us to reply. "Meet our new super attendant, Mrs. Bulma Briefs!" He stepped aside to reveal a dazzling woman, who probably could be considered a model than a super attendant.

Her lips were painted a bright red and she had crystal-blue eyes. She wore what looked like a silk skirt with her button-up white shirt tucked in it. Ms. Briefs for black high heels and was holding a clipboard and had a pen nestled on her ear. Which stunned me the most was that she had blue hair –the exact same shade Bulla had.

"Bulla, look!" Marron whispered as she pulled on Bulla's long sleeve.

"She looks like me," Bulla muttered as she stared at the woman in awe.

"Hello," Bulma said, "I am Bulma Briefs."

Everyone in the room started squealing and shouting. This didn't sound like an assembly, it sounded like a concert for One Direction or something. I covered my sensitive ears, but still kept my eye on the blue-haired lady. Even through my hands I could still hear them throwing questions at Mrs. Briefs.

"How old are you?" one of the girls asked. I didn't know who, since I was sitting behind one of Valese's tallest friends.

"Do you like fashion?"

"Were you a fashion model when you were young?"

"Where did you go to school?"

"Your lipstick is so nice! Where'd you get it?"

"Alright, alright, calm down, ladies," Bulma said as she motioned her hands up and down. "I'll answer just three questions, so raise your hands."

I shot my hand up as high as I could, but apparently Missy, the girl who sits in front of me, raised her hand, too.

"Hmm, you with the black hair and the red glittery dress," Bulma said while pointing to Sue.

Sue put her hand down and asked, "Do you enjoy shopping, and if you do, where do you go?"

"That's an excellent question," Bulma began. She looked up and thought for a moment. "Well, I like to shop and go to lots of shops, but I like those shops where they have clothes that aren't mass-produced, you know?"

I kept waving my hand from side to side. There was no time for these stupid questions. Mine was urgent! It was the question that desperately needed an answer.

"Pan, don't ask if she has a daughter named Bulla," Marron whispered.

I looked over at her and lowered my arm a bit. "Why not?"

"Just don't. It's too revealing."

I frowned. I guess I had to rephrase my question.

Without me noticing, the next question was asked.

"Have you met anyone famous before?"

"Lots of people. I mean, I was good friends with the savior of the Earth, Mr. Satan," Mrs. Briefs said. When she spoke the word 'savior' it sort of sounded like Hercule Satan wasn't, but I know he was. The whole world knew that! "Okay, last question and I will move on to doing my job."

Everyone's hands were in the air. This was my last chance. My last chance of getting my answer. If she picked someone else, we'll never know.

"You," Bulma pointed at Valese.

"WAIT!"

Bulma looked puzzled at the girl who shouted. You know who it is. Yep, it's me.

"Excuse her, Mrs. Briefs," Headmaster Johnson said. "She is one of those troublemakers at this school."

One of those troublemakers at this school? I was the only troublemaker at that school!

Bulla sunk a bit into her chair. She was already short enough so Valese blocked Bulma's view of her.

"Actually, you, raven-haired girl," she said. Her well-manicured finger pointed at me. I let out a breath and hopped off my chair. Wait, when did I jump onto my chair? Who cares, the question had to be answered!

"Mrs. Briefs, would you mind telling us about your family?" I asked confidently. I looked at Valese, who gave me an angry look.

Bulma's eyes saddened, but her smile was still on her face.

"Sure," she said. "My husband, his name is Vegeta. We had two children. One was a boy, he was the oldest. He looks a lot like my father. His name is Trunks." Bulma didn't look at us; her gaze was on the floor. Her hand was on her chest, as if she were reaching for her heart. "He's the president of Capsule Corporation and he's still single, ladies. Well, I guess that's it. I have to get working before you girls model."

That sucked. She had a boy not a girl. I guess it was pointless embarrassing myself in front of the whole school and in front of an idol like Bulma Briefs. Now I'm going to pay for it. I'll have to wash the whole entire school's dishes, or worse. I'll have to give Headmaster Johnson a foot massage! Yuck! I've heard rumors tha-

"Hold on!" Marron shouted as she took a stand. How did she have the guts to do that? She was always shy, always obedient.

"Yes?" Bulma looked up, once again with surprise painted on her face.

"You said you had two children, if I heard correctly," Marron pointed out. Bulma grinned.

"Yes, I did."

"The question was asked about your family, was it not? Please tell us about this second child, if you can," Marron stated. Dang, if I ever needed a lawyer, I'm calling Marron for sure! (I'm probably going to need one sooner or later. . .)

Now that Marron mentioned it, I was too stupid to even notice that Mrs. Briefs said 'two'. It was obvious! And I was too dumb to even hear it. I guess that part where Bulma said her son was still single really rubbed me into the wrong direction.

"Of course," Bulma said, still smiling. She nodded approvingly and began talking. "Our second child was a beautiful baby girl. Sadly, one day we sent her away, thinking that she would get a good education. She never came back. She never wrote. She never called. We never saw her again." Bulma wiped a tear off her cheek. "And I even forgot her name. What kind of mother am I?" She sniffled and that was the end of the assembly.

Back in the dorm room, all the girls began to prepare for the shooting.

"I can't believe it," Bulla said as she slipped into her high heels. "I really think she might be my mother."

"Yeah, but she never saw her ever again," Marron said as she zipped up her dress from behind.

"Exactly! We've been here since were like what? Ten? Nine? Eleven? We've never been outside these walls!" Bulla said excitedly.

"But if the headmaster knew this, wouldn't he send Bulla back to her parents?" I asked. I didn't get an answer, only stares that said 'are you stupid'? "What?" I asked.

"Pan, you know how he is. He's not going to send back a beautiful, flawless girl," Marron said. "Who would, if they made millions off of these dumb photos?"

I sighed. Was I really that clueless? Maybe that's why all my escape attempts failed. I shoved my hand into one of those bangle bracelets and lined up at the door with the rest of the girls. The French double doors were always locked. From the outside. I felt like a slave.

The doors swung open and all of us trailed down to the photo shoot.

Bulma's POV

Stupid, greedy people are always the easiest to trick, don't you think? Me, a super attendant? Please. I'm the mother of the owner of a huge company, why do I need a job? I also have Vegeta working at Dunkin' Donuts.

The only reason why I'm at this school is because of some articles about missing girls –with the same type of disappearance –sending them off to a school. I have to tell you, it's kind of flattering that only the pretty girls get kidnapped, but it's bad. It reminded me of Oolong when he was young.

I walked into the girl's room and it surprised me that they all slept in the same room. Luckily, they had separate beds –who would've known –in a grubby place like this, I thought it'd be worse. Time to do some snooping!

I walked along the aisle and took glances of the beds. I didn't know what my daughter looks like now, but I know for sure she looks like me. Blue hair was the giveaway. There was nothing useful I could find, so I headed off to the bathroom and made a note that the girls should have separate bedrooms, or else I will shut down the school.

I made my way into the bathroom and it was gorgeous! I'd even say it's better than mine! All the girls have private sinks and showers. It looked like a mansion's bathroom instead of an academy's. Slowly and carefully, I walked beside the sinks, searching for blue hair. They must've kept this place spick-and-span because I couldn't find any. I guess I'll have to look for brushes. There were mirrors that were also cabinets and I reached out for one and checked, but no blue hair in sight.

I kept this up for about 10 minutes –it's pretty easy to see if there's blue hair or not –and as I reached out for another, Mr. Johnson shouted, "Don't touch that!"

I quickly turned around and let my hand drop.

"What do you mean? I'm just doing my job!" I defended. I held the clipboard close. If I needed any attention, I'd just click the button on top of the clipboard and it would alert Vegeta, who was outside the building. Why do I need Vegeta here? Well, you see, I've done this millions of times and sometimes, I've been attacked by the head of the schools.

"I'm sorry," Mr. Johnson cleared his throat, "I meant to say, you shouldn't be snooping around in the girl's belongings –it's rude."

I coughed. He was a man. He was the head of the school. I'm pretty sure he was the only staff here. "You're a man. I don't see any female adults here. I'm pretty sure I have a right to check up on the girls," I scoffed, stating the obvious.

As quickly as he came in, he left and I heard him grunt. Score one for Bulma. I turned to look at the cabinet-mirror. It had to be in there! Why would he come up here in the middle of the photo shoot? And how did he know I was snooping around in the bathroom? I shook the thought out of my head. No, just no.

"Here comes mama," I said as I slowly opened the mirror. Inside, it was very well organized. The makeup was in their own groups, but that wasn't what I was looking at. I was looking at the brush that had strands of hair on it. Blue hair. Quickly, I took a piece off and got out a Ziploc bag. I had to test out if it's the same as mine, or similar. If it was, this chica is definitely my daughter and if I kept this act up and find more girls who have disappeared, then I would solve this whole case and have the power to shut this school down once and for all. I know, I'm pretty intelligent.

I tucked the bag deep inside my purse and continued walking down, checking out the place.

Pan's POV

The chair was being raised high in the air and I looked down. We were about 20 feet up, I guess, but it wasn't so high. At least not for me.

"I can't look!" Marron shouted with her hands over her eyes. She was afraid of heights, obviously. "I can't do this!"

"Yes you can, Marron," Bulla said in a soothingly tone, "You can. It's only a few feet up."

Quickly, Marron slammed her hands on her lap and yelled at Bulla. "YOU THINK THIS IS A FEW FEET?! IT'S LIKE A MILLION MILES!"

Bulla leaned towards me and I was glad I wasn't sitting in the middle, like Bulla was.

"Calm down."

"NO! WE CAN DIE!"

Bulla rolled her eyes and turned her head to look at me.

"Uh, Marron, it's just a photo session. After a couple pictures, we'll be down on the ground in no time," I said. Bulla let out a breath of relief –I assume it was because I saved her booty.

"I guess so," Marron said as she took deep breaths.

I took a good look around the place. There was a sort of backstage, but it was really high in the air, 20 feet up, maybe. Also, all the way in the back, there was a window. I squinted and leaned forward, tipping the chair a bit.

"PAN! STOP!"

I ignored Marron and tried to get a closer look, even if it meant hearing Marron screaming. At last, I confirmed there was a lock on the window. A lock meant the window can open. And open window meant escape. Pretty good huh?

"Bulla, you see that window?" I whispered from the corner of my mouth. I didn't want to make anything suspicious.

"Where?"

"Way back on that weird platform on top of the photo shoot."

I suppose Bulla had her eyes locked on the window because she was looking at something.

"Yeah I see it."

"We can jump and head for it."

Bulla's eyes grew wide.

"What? It might work," I whispered.

"I know, but. . ."

I already knew what her worry was –Marron. I hadn't realized it. If we had to jump, Marron would be freaked and probably wouldn't.

"Try to persuade her."

"I'll try."

I heard quiet mumbles between the two. What I didn't hear was Marron yelping.

Finally, Bulla turned back to me and started whispering.

"Marron says she'll do it, but she's still scared."

I nodded. I was pretty scared too, but I wasn't going to show it.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's jump." The platform was right in front of us. I was sure we could make it.

"Marron says that we can't. According to her, the average human can only jump 3 feet or a meter."

I wanted to face-palm myself, but I couldn't. It would state too many suspicions.

"Then how are we going to do it? Marron says the she will, so there is a way, right?"

"Yes there is. We have to swing in order to reach it. Once we're high enough, we'll leap."

Now, it was my turn to panic.

"A-are you s-sure?" I asked.

Marron nodded ever so slightly. Her face was so calm –confident even. If Marron says this escape will work, then I trust in her. She was the brains of us, after all.

"Okay," I replied.

I watched from the corner of my eye as Bulla set her head on Marron's shoulder. I'm betting that they're talking to each other. Bulla lifted her head up and whispered to me, "On Marron's cue."

I nodded. Wait, what was the cue?!

"Okay. Pan, Marron, Bulla, act like you guys are best friends," Bob said. Bob was the photographer. He stinks. I'm not talking about his pictures, I'm talking about him. Psychically.

Louder than an average cough, Marron, well coughed. I guess that was the cue so I swung my legs back, sending the bench back. Then I swung my legs forward, making the bench go up. Our legs were swinging in unison and below, we heard girls screaming.

"Stop, girls! The rope wasn't meant for that!" Bob shouted.

My heart stopped. If we didn't have enough force to jump, the rope will snap and we'd go splat. I gripped the armrest tightly as if it would save me, but I know it wouldn't. It just made me feel safer.

We were swinging high and I was worried that I wouldn't hear Marron's voice.

"NOW!"

I let go of the arm rest and pushed myself off the bench. All three of us were hand-in-hand and I squeezed my eyes shut. I felt myself plummeting. I couldn't feel the floor. I guess my life is over. Good bye.