My sleep had never been so terrifying.

I dreamed a whole merry-go-round of random faces wearing dark expressions-Erasa, Sharpner, some students I paid no mind-had spun around me in a blur. As my head dizzied, they laughed harder, so uncaring, and it rebounded in my head tremendously.

"Stop," I managed in a short breath when I found my voice. But my head kept reeling, and they guffawed at my display of weakness. Whimpering, I held my head firmly in my hands as if it would roll off my shoulders.

Their entertained voices reverberated in the black abyss. "I have persuaded myself that your father wasn't responsible for Cell's slaughter."

"He means we're dating."

"Well I dunno, I dun see no tough girly runnin' 'round."

"I know your daddy's big secret."

"Isn't he supposed to be making that big speech this year, next month? He's going to give a vivid description of how he killed Cell. Like, the whole story."

All lines that struck a bad chord. But it was the question next that filled me with the most disdain.

"What are you gonna do now Satan?"

This one erupted in a chorus of repeats. It rehearsed over and over from the faces all at once, and they grinned like evil clowns.

Then the faces dimmed until they were part of the darkness. I collapsed to the floor, gulping for air with relief. Up until a pair of pink and white sneakers crept out from the blackness, I had been relaxing my pace of breath. Then it quivered all over again, and I whimpered, because the feet belonged to Akane.

She knelt down next to me, searching my face impassively. Then she broke into a wide smirk. "Who are you?"

I didn't know why she was asking, but I flared truthfully, "I don't know anymore! Leave me alone!"

Her laughter provoked a wave of terror in me that was nothing compared to what I felt when the faces had been laughing in sync.

Then my subconscious mind had mercy on me before I suffered a heart attack and my eyes flew open. I jolted upright, drenched in sweat and desperately grappling for oxygen as if I had just come from a strenuous training session.

I let my head fall when my heart rate relaxed to normal. If I had roused Erasa awake, she didn't stir from the bottom bunk.

"Who are you?" I asked myself.

The next afternoon in school, in biology with Gohan, the memory of my nightmare had all but vanished from my thinking. Now my thoughts were saying 'Gohan's funny, his bangs are beautiful, those eyes are so soothing,' and et cetera.

I was disturbed by it, but at the same time, soothed by his presence and jokes as we chatted away. Even when I was dissecting a frog (curse you science) thoughts of him were still rocking my world and we kept on talking.

"No way." Gohan laughed lightly. "He did that?"

I rolled my eyes. "Oh please," I scoffed and idly poked at frog organs with my knife. "You should hear what Sharpner says when he thinks no one is listening. One time-"

"Both of you!" our shamefully unfit biology teacher exploded and slammed a book on the desk. "You've been talking enough for one class period."

I wanted to lash out at him, but Gohan beat me with an apologetic, "Sorry sir."

Wuss.

By then we would've continued on in hushed voices, but a beep from my talking watch ruined every chance of that. Mumbling something about how it never ends, I took the call.

"Videl!" a frantic police chief cried. "The mayor has been kidnapped! They'll shoot him if they don't get a million!"

"On my way," I said casually because, after all, this was almost an every day matter for me. I clicked him off the line.

"Sorry Gohan, gotta run." Every desire to stick to my personal morphine (Gohan) was closed off as the instinct of defending the city flooded me. I leaped over my desk and shot off like a rocket through the door, ignoring the teacher's muted call.

"In there?" I asked.

The chief nodded. "But I don't know if you can get in. They're loaded with amm-"

"I'll sneak in, then," I solved.

Before the chief could ask, a cop leaning lazily against his vehicle chowing down on a donut looked up. "How?" he asked. "Every entrance is blocked."

I didn't reply and concentrated on the white building with its cylinder and staircase belting structure. The most obvious front twin doors were guarded by snipers, so my eyes surfed to every inch. I'd been thinking there would be signs of an easy break-in, but I came up negative.

"Guess we'll have to trick them," I concluded in a solid voice.

"How?" the same policeman asked. Even when you weren't a criminal, their querying grinds your gears.

"Watch and learn." I strode up to the city hall, ignoring a sweep of protests behind me, and climbed the stairs to the base. The two stoic men immediately readied fire, and they didn't let their guard down when I swung my arms up in surrender.

"Sorry, but we're not falling for anything," said a snub-nosed sniper.

"Take it easy. I'm just the messenger, okay? The city surrenders its one million dollars," I fibbed with a flawless display of bleakness.

They hesitated, but at least their fingers left the triggers. "How do we know this isn't a trick?" the other one cautioned.

"Are you kidding? Do you see their faces? That looks like surrendering, if you ask me." They looked at the crowd of policemen ringing around the city hall. Then they switched their focus of sight back and forth on me and the police. I glanced back only once. Like I'd hoped, they were moping, running hands through their hair out of their worry for me. But the door guards would think the stress was for a different reason, I hoped.

Snubby Nose whipped out a walkie talkie, turned his back on me, and leaned close to his communication device while reporting under a low breath. I heard a bright reply that I couldn't make out. Was that a good sign?

My answer came when he turned to me again and stuffed it back in his pocket. His face looked hard.

"Well?" his partner pushed.

He looked at me monotonuously, then back to the tanner man. "It's agreed, but they have to hand over the ransom first."

I shook my head. "No can do. The police at least know better than to trust you."

"You're saying we have to bring out the mayor first?" Tan Man narrowed his eyes.

"Exactly."

They latched glares on me and huddled in low discussion. I waited, arms crossed until they parted seconds later.

"No," Tan Man said firmly.

I shrugged. "Fine." I could see the confusion carving the policemen's faces as I took patient steps down the stairs.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Snubby Nose yelled after me.

I waved without looking back. "No mayor, no money. That's the word. Go ahead and kill him." My tongue felt like sulfur saying that, even if it wasn't true, and I was praying they took the bait.

"Wait, stop right there!" Tan Man said strongly. "We'll contact our director!" I sat on the step and waited, arms crossed and sadly out of hearing range as they muttered into their walkie talkies. After a time's passing, Snubby Nose announced, "The mayor is coming out."

Trying to force down my triumphant glow, I walked back to the peak of the steps and stood there to wait even more. I sighed and tapped my foot until eons following the twin doors flew open and a gunslinger escorting a sweaty mayor whose glasses were several sizes too big and dorky, yet he somehow still sported that political image, came through. The doors slammed themselves behind them.

"Hand over the money," the gunman bossed, jaw tight.

I held my ground. "Hand over the mayor."

His lips drew back in a snarl. I arched a competitive eye brow. He narrowed his eyes, and the eye brow rose higher. His nostrils flared as we stared each other down, and yet my eye brow only lifted to my hair line in amusement.

Finally, nostrils continuing to flare he shouted, "Alright, fine!" and forcefully threw the mayor down a flight of stairs. I trotted up and caught him just in time. He thanked me in a rush of air.

In a code-like mysterious voice, I yelled over to the policemen, "Okay, give them the green! We've got our mayor back."

Inside, I laughed. These guys were idiots, and here they said they weren't falling for anything.

For a moment the subliminal message was unbeknownst to the cops, but good ol' panicky chief brightened. "Right. We just need the mayor to sign the check. Get the check book, Daichi," he ordered with a furtive wink. The chubby Daichi, knowing there was no check book, disappeared inside the chief's police car to look for it. Meanwhile, I had walked the mayor to the foot of the stairs.

"I'm not going to sign anything," he mumbled weakly and distractedly. Still in shock, I figured.

"We weren't planning for you to sign," I replied.

His eye brows knitted together. "Then-" But he clamped his mouth shut when I smiled mischeivously and placed a finger on my lips. As soon as he got in the car to sign a check, I'd tell Daichi to hit the brakes and speed away.

But there was always a mess-up on the police squad. "Wait!" the one who'd been questioning me earlier said a little too loudly. "We don't even have a check book!"