Summary: Bonnie doesn't know who her father is, and no one will tell her anything about him. When a stranger appears one day offering her the chance to go back in time and meet him, she takes it. In the past she's shocked to discover that it was her father who created the time machine, and he's been expecting her! Stranded in the past with her young parents, Bonnie takes it upon herself to bring them together, or die trying.
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This is an AU story, so I've changed a lot of things. Forget everything that happens after Frieza. Other changes will become apparent as you continue reading. Again, this is an AU story, if you don't like AU's then you're probably not going to like this story, but please do feel free to give this first chapter a chance.
Thank you.
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Chapter 1:
Vegeta5000
. . .
"Bonnie, I've asked you over and over not to talk in class but you just won't listen! I'm done asking nicely," Ms. Angela shouts, stopping the documentary playing on the large hologram in front of the class.
All the teachers are required to wear a small circular control around their necks, which Ms. Angela pushes and lowly murmurs," Lights on, please," into the device. I hear the little remote beep in compliance, and a few seconds later all the lights in the classroom turn on and our smart desks glow a faint blue as they awaken from sleep mode.
My best friend, Justin, coughs into his hand to hide his laughter. He was the reason I couldn't stop talking during that boring documentary. He should be in trouble too, but Ms. Angela has set her wrath on me.
"I wasn't talking," I respond, widening my eyes in fake surprise.
My classmates snicker and laugh along with Justin, outing me to the teacher. Everyone knows It's impossible for me to be silent or sit still longer than five minutes. It isn't natural for a fifteen-year-old girl like myself to have the abundant energy of a toddler hyped up on coffee and candy, yet I do. I even take medication for it, which doesn't help much.
Ms. Angela narrows her eyes and points to the ominous black wristbands sitting in the front corner of the room by the door.
Justin takes in a sharp breath," Oh, shit."
The girls in my class cover their mouths in disbelief and horror, and the guys uncomfortably fidget in their seats. Those aren't normal wristbands. They are the VEGETA 5000 wristbands, designed for serious martial arts competitors to train with, which Orange Star High uses as a form of punishment and humiliation for male students.
Wow, I had no clue Ms. Angela had it out for me. Was I really so annoying that she'd resort to this form of torture? I push down my hurt feelings and my face remains neutral as I get out of my seat.
Justin shoots up from his desk, towering above everyone else like a giant." Wait! I deserve to be punished, not her. I'm the reason she was talking in the first place."
"Sit down, idiot," hisses one of Justin's friends, even going as far as pulling on Justin's arm. Justin shakes him off his arm and hops down the stairs to the front of the room. He can't stop smiling as he beats me to the wristbands. Justin is hyper like me, but he has the ability to act "normal" when he takes his medication. Apparently, he forgot to take his meds today.
Justin straps on the wristbands, then shows them off to the class by doing a funny walk-jog around the classroom." Are these seriously the wristbands Vegeta Briefs uses? A baby could train with these in their sleep. I can barely tell I'm wearing them!"
Ms. Angela smiles and presses down on the control hanging around her neck." Wristbands, level one please."
"Whoa," Justin falters a little as the wristbands change to level one. He continues to walk-jog around the classroom." That's weird. It feels like I'm carrying my nana on my back."
"The wristbands don't just add weight, they increase a person's surrounding gravity by 100X…something to do with auras," One of Justin's friends reads from his phone." There are ten levels but most people don't make it past level three. It says here that a guy in Mint City broke every bone in his body and died when he hit level four."
Suddenly, it's not so funny watching Justin wear the wristbands anymore. If anyone is dumb enough to try and reach level four, it's Justin. He's doesn't know his limits. I hold out my hand, palm up.
"It's my turn to try them on. I'm the one who's supposed to be getting disciplined anyway."
"Nu-uh. If anyone is dumb enough to try and reach level four, it's you." He's able to hold his serious expression for five seconds before it melts away into a wide smile. As the girl who has to retake gym class, I'm the very last person who would ever try to reach any level beyond level one. I'm the weakest and smallest girl in class. Could I handle level one?
" Give Bonnie the wristbands," Ms. Angela instructs. She presses the button to turn off the wristbands.
Justin's blue eyes lock onto mine as he removes the wristbands and approaches me. It's difficult not to admire the strength in his arms or the way his broad shoulders move under his white T-shirt. He's grown so tall since last year ( one of the tallest guys in school). His brown hair is longer too, reaching just past his shoulders, which he keeps tied back with one of my pink hair ties. Justin is so attractive I just know he'll have his first girlfriend before I find my first boyfriend. Thinking about my childhood friend having his first love fills with me with pride and sadness.
"Cheer up. You're much stronger than you think," Justin says, tightening the wristbands over my much smaller wrists." There's only 5 minutes of class left. What's the worst that Ms. Angela can do?"
"Umm. Humiliate me in front of my peers and make my non-existent muscles sore for days?"
"Take it like a woman, make me proud!" Justin beams.
I roll my eyes." Right." I plant my feet on the floor in front of the class. Thanks to Justin, most of our classmates are too busy talking about tonight's big party at Eris Brief's house to care about me anymore. Good. No one is ever going to randomly come up to me and say," Hey, remember that time Ms. Angela made you wear those wristbands, and you sprained a muscle? Good times!"
Oh, I just know I'm going to sprain something.
"Ready?" Ms. Angela asks.
"Yeah, let's get this over with." I shrug.
"Level one."
Ms. Angela presses the button. The device beeps. Suddenly, it feels like Justin's 80 year-old Nana falls from the ceiling and body slams right into me. My back slumps painfully forward at a 30-degree angle, forcing me to look down at the dirty floor. My knees and hands tremble, and I can't tell if my face is red from anger or from the exertion of supporting more weight. Some of my classmates have started laughing at me, but I can't see who.
It's hard to believe that Eris' grandmother made these wristbands! What kind of sick woman was Bulma Briefs? At least now I know that every news source is wrong, Vegeta Briefs can't possibly workout with these everyday without killing himself. It's not humanly possible!
Every second is agonizingly painful. Is Ms. Angela going to make me wear these stupid wristbands for five whole minutes? I don't think I can last that long. My neck feels like it's going to snap, but I force myself to look up at Ms. Angela anyway. With my eyes I plead with her to turn off the wristbands. I'll be a good girl from now on, no more talking in Ms. Angela's class.
Ms. Angela smirks. Her thumb caresses the button for a second, giving me hope.
"Level two," she coldly says, sounding nothing like the sweet, air-headed teacher everyone loves.
Gravity kicks out my legs from under me, forcing me into the plank position. The only reason my face isn't buried into the floor is because I'm afraid of what will happen to me if I give into the increased gravity. Still, I know I'm in no shape to hold this position for very long.
"Turn it off!" I gasp.
Justin's chair scrapes against the floor.
"Level three."
"NO!" Justin shouts at the same time I start screaming. Level three buries me into the floor, squeezing out all the oxygen in my body.
Through my pain, I recall all those forgotten times I got zero credit for handing in assignments five minutes late, or the fleeting glares she gave me every time I gave her a cheery," Good morning, Ms. Angela." Ms. Angela has held a grudge against me since day one. I just never saw it until now.
Out of the corner of my eye I glimpse Justin trying to wrestle the remote away from Bitch Angela. He's risking possible expulsion from the school if he succeeds. She's resisting, so he may just end up punching her, which would earn him a one-way ticket to juvie. I'd do the same for him, though.
"LEVEL FOUR!" Bitch Angela screams, looking crazier than anyone has ever seen her. The gravity hits me so hard, I black out for a few seconds.
"You're going to die if you don't fight back," some part of me says.
I black out again a few seconds longer than last time, but my inner voice is there to greet me when I come to. It shouts," Fight! Fight now, or die!"
"Ahhhhhh!" I scream, shakily pushing myself up into a push-up position. My arms feel like they're not even there, and I know it's only a matter of seconds before I black out again. There's no time to waste. I have to free myself from the wristbands. For the first time in my life I can feel my aura pulsing around my body. I scream again as I channel all my remaining energy into making it grow." Ahhhhhh!"
My aura grows bigger than I ever imagined. It pushes into the first row of smart desks, shattering the glass upon contact, and the stone floor cracks beneath my palms. More importantly, the wristbands crumble to pieces, freeing me from their torture.
Just as quickly as it grew, my aura shrinks back to practically nothing, and my eyes roll into the back of my head. My body feels weightless as I land chin first onto the dirty floor.
"You did well," my inner voice says proudly as I lose consciousness.