I'm back with chapter 2! I'm so sorry I couldn't update… I am a pretty dedicated lacrosse player, and I have had so much lacrosse lately. I actually just got back from practice. Anyway, …

Disclaimer: I don't own anything.

NOTE: This will from now on be in first person from bulma's POV

NOTE: Some of the characters will talk in slang, so expect some misspellings and slang. It is intentional.

Chapter 2:

I'm walking. I don't know what I plan to do, or where I plan to go, but I needed to get out. I can't believe what a weakling I had turned into. Ki supressers leave me without any power. I can't fight back. My psychic energies have been taken because with them, I would be a threat. I would be a threat not only to Goku, but to the government. I was the only hope for my people until they came to restrain me.

I bumped into someone while thinking about it. I apologize and move on. I need to find food, money, or both. I just can't feed someone else! They must really hate this guy if they sent him to live with me for 3 years. If he was any friend of theirs, he wouldn't even know this god forsaken place existed.

I keep walking and dodging the crowds of people. My people. For many oppressed people, there was a savior and a happy ending. Where was theirs? Where is our savior? I keep walking and arrive at one of the piles. This was actually just what I needed! Maybe I can get lucky and find something valuable to sell for food. I keep rummaging unsuccessfully. Then, I saw someone familiar. It's Ahmet. He can't speak English as well as I can, so I speak our native language.

"Hey, where've you been? There's been so much shit goin' on 'round here," I say.

"Ahhh, nothin' too exciting. I've gotten some jobs here an' there," he said.

"That's better than I've been doing! You won't believe the day I've been havin'! I've been doin' pretty bad lately. The sibs (siblings… in case you couldn't tell) and I have been getting' along allright, but then Goku stopped on by!"

"Oh Lord what'd he have ta say? He didn't do anything to you or bring his bastard friend did he?" Ahmet asked, concerned.

"Not taday. What he did do is bring a friend a his for me to house and feed fer three years! This guy's a total bastard if ya know what a mean!" (NOTE: where they live, they have something like an Irish accent)

"Ahhh, not another un! Ain't there anathin' I could do for ya? I know ya been ahavin' troubles gettin along wit just ta standard payment," he said.

"I'm fine, really. But if ya could lend a hand with the sibs it'd be a help," I said.

God fucking damn it. How could he end up here? A PRINCE living in the slums? Nobody here appears to speak proper English. Everyone here also has a heavy accent which is very fucking difficult to understand! There is NO food here and I'm hungry. There is nothing here but poverty and suffering. It's very uncomfortable to say the least. Maybe I shouldn't leave the house. What would be there?

I picked up a dirty platter with only 3 chips in it. I smirked, knowing that I just found us dinner.

"Yo, Ahmet! I found dis platter!"

"Bulma, it's got shit on it. Nobody'd want that."

I think this'll buy us some food. I can go without food today, it's no big deal for me. I wipe the platter off and make it look somewhat shiny. One man's trash truly is another man's treasure. I take it, say good-bye to Ahmet, and head to the market. It's really more of a black market because it violates most of the laws that regulate trade on the island. District 15 as they call it. We're the fifteens, desperate, poor, and beaten.

"Please, It's worth much more," I beg," I have 11 to feed!"

"Get out of here you filthy whore. I have actual customers to speak with," the merchant says. Sure. Easy as hell for him to say. I doubt he's even a 15, just a citizen coming to cheat us.

"I will do anything!" I beg. He then slaps me and pushes me to the ground. I am weak with hunger and fall. The ice feels good, but my head is throbbing. I can't get back up, I know it. I need to get up. I need to be there for my brothers and sisters. I need to be their parents. This was the tenth merchant I asked. Nobody wants this shitty platter! Ahmet was absolutely right. I should listen to him more. That one hope in the back of my head grew and grew and grew like it always does.

I get up and walk toward the house. I have nothing to bring home. My only hope is that some snob left their garden unattended. I could also kill a squirrel