Broken Home
I'd try to
describe how sorry I am for being dead for the last few… months (eep)… but I don't
think the English language stretches that far. My excuse??? A/S levels.
Finished them recently tho', so I should be able to get another chapter of solky
out soon. Recently, I've been mulling over the idea of a Placebo fic… stay
tuned for that. The POV and the time order jumps around in this. Stay on your
toes. NE1 talking about, 'me' is Vegeta.
Disclaimer: I
don't own Dragonball Z or any of the characters, and I don't own the song 'Broken Home'.
The band Papa Roach does. I don't own any Pepsi either… well… not for more than
15 minutes NEway.
/Broken home, all alone/
/Broken home, all alone/
It was too late for regrets now. It
was too late for anything now. He felt that the end had come, finally. He
couldn't stop what was taking place. He was too weak. But at least he couldn't
feel. That in itself was a blessing. He sat in the darkness, almost
catatonic.
/I can't seem to fight feelings/
He didn't want to feel anything
anymore. The cold, hard wall that had sprung up between him and the rest of the
world couldn't seem to block the molten feelings of rejection and betrayal.
They waged war within him.
/I'm caught in the middle of this/
It was his life- the life of one
individual- against the lives of a whole planet. His people. There was
little thought to be made over the decision… but it still hurt to be treated
like property. He was still young, regardless of what he'd lived through, and he had
harboured
the thought that his father might actually still care for him… that he was
important as his son as well as the Prince. He hated being wrong.
/And my wounds are not healing/
He could endure amounts of physical
abuse that grown men could not, and yet the gouges made within him when his
father looked at him as the downfall of their nation, as a disappointment… as
if he was worthless… they wouldn't close.
/I'm stuck in between my parents/
Frieza has had so much influence in
my upbringing that he is more my father than the King would be… but I will
never, never call him
father. My
real father has some honour. He
wouldn't enslave another race to do his dirty work. He'll gladly kill them of
course, but slavery isn't the Saiyan way. The Ice-jin's, however, have become
masters at it over the centuries. It is now them who teach me. He who controls
me. I'm sorry father. I have failed you.
/I wish had someone to talk to/
/Someone I could confide in/
But I don't, even when others
surround me, I have to be alone. I can't afford to trust anyone; there is no
one to trust. Nobody has the time anymore, the time to listen or the time to
become trustworthy. I have too many problems to sort through myself, so I'll
keep them inside till later. There will be time later, I am sure. I'll forget
that I've been taught that later never comes.
/I just want to know the truth/
/I just want to know the truth/
/Want to know the truth/
I think I'm old enough to take it. I
even think I already know. Even Nappa could figure out that I'm not wanted
round my father. Except for the fact that I'm probably the next Super-Saiyan, I
would be dead by now and probably by his hand. I've always been too short, too
clever, and too powerful for him. He's jealous. My own father, jealous of his
son. So he hates me. And I hate him. Because... somewhere deep inside… I still
love him. I'm betraying myself.
/Broken home, all alone/
Frieza now controls my father and
practically owns the entire Saiyan race. And we remain as his lackeys!! I'd rather die before our race is enslaved… but my father
is a coward. And he'd sell his son to preserve his honour. What is honourable
about that?
/I know my mother loves me/
It was the last thing before she
died. I'd like to say that she died in battle, fighting against Frieza, as she
had wanted to from the minute she had met him. I would prefer to remember her that
way… instead of lying in front of my fathers feet, broken in her body and her
soul. Another demand from Frieza. And I stood, ice-cold, and stared at her as
she screamed her last words into his father's face, the words that would
unknowingly be an omen. 'Your making a mistake Vegeta!'
/But does my father even care/
My father ignores me now, like he
ignored her, and we don't talk anymore. I don't think I exist for him any
longer. And now that my mother is dead… she can't touch me. She can't reassure
me. She will never talk to me again. But I know she is watching.
One is here but doesn't want to be.
One isn't here but longs to.
I don't want to be here either.
/If I'm sad or angry/
I feel this way the most, in the
rare moments when I feel anything. Angry. Mostly angry. I don't think the word
does justice for the emotion that screams within me, the feeling that pours
destructive from my hands, the perpetual throbbing of it in my head,
controlling my actions. There can't be a word for the demolition of your senses
that happens when you totally lose it, so strong that it almost makes your
spirit leap from your body to get out, to rip, to kill. More vibrant than hate.
More present than loathing. And it burns out quicker than the sadness that
floods the space it leaves when it ebbs.
And somehow, the sadness is worse.
At least the anger doesn't drain you so much. The anger doesn't make you weak.
The sadness cripples you, and you can't escape from it. Ever present, it seeps
into your bones like the cold and grows there, it centers in your gut and
curling up does little to ease the feeling.
/You were never ever there/
/When I needed you/
I suppose it's because you wanted me
to be strong. But at those times when there was no one else, and when the
problem was too large for me to handle on my own. I knew that the strong
presence of my father would be right behind me… pushing me deeper into my
troubles. There's only so much you can do to me to make me stronger, more
emotionless. But my own imagination is a better teacher, the nightmares that I
create within my own head deaden me inside more than anything you could do to
me, and it is even more effective when your not there afterwards. You just
don't care.
/I hope you regret what you did/
But
I don't think you do. You once told me, when we used to talk, that you never
regretted anything that you'd done. I wonder if that remains the same now as it
did then. I doubt it. There are so many things now to regret than there were
then… but you are the King and it immediately follows that what you do is
right.
Even if that thing is enslaving
your own people to a megalomaniac rather than choosing to stand and fight. Even
if it means that thousands of babies are sent off world to grow up in pods, to
be brainwashed into completing the work of Frieza, so that they don't get a
chance to try and become free themselves. So that for the next generation upon
generation will always have worked for Frieza and will have grown up knowing
nothing other than Frieza.
Even
if it means sending your son, the hope for the next generation of Saiyan
warriors, to be beaten and enslaved by the same creature who kills worlds with
his little finger.
/I think I know the truth/
/Your father did the same to you/
/Did the same to you/
It's the Saiyan way, really. Growing
up emotionless and without feelings so that we are not hindered on the
battlefield. Or am I wrong. I would normally deny it, but in this case I know
that I am wrong. We do feel on the field of battle. We
feel honour and glory and bloodlust. The thrill of the adrenaline pounding
through us as it was meant to. We feel the rush as we charge into the fray,
knowing this could be our day to die, but loving every minute of it. But now, we feel nothing. We are killing machines.
Totally soulless. As your father had to be when he beat you mercilessly, as you
do me, to teach you to be stronger, so that you could also gain power, and
become as strong as you could be. But your father always fought his battles
himself. He didn't give you over to ensure that he won. Did he.
He made a good job of making you
soulless.
/I'm crying day and night now/
/What is wrong with me? /
I feel so weak and pathetic. I know
that a Saiyan warrior should not feel this way, shouldn't feel anything,
especially not to someone who they'd eventually have to kill. But then, my
whole planet died. The world that I had been reared into the… the mindset that
I had been brought up in and the whole reason for my existence in the first
place had just been erased by a large lump of ice and rock. I didn't find out
until later that Frieza had done it himself. How was I supposed to feel?
But that didn't explain the constant
weeping, the times when I had looked into the mirror only to find myself crying
silent tears, unknown even to myself. I had been lucky so far, and no one else
had noticed, but I was sure that I wasn't supposed to be behaving like this. I
was supposed to be emotionless, in almost any state, my subconscious being one
of them. So how, then, was it that I was constantly crying, why did I wake up
to the salt-water brimming in my eyes, and why didn't I know that I was crying
as I did it?
/I cannot fight now/
/I feel like a weak link/
Fighting is impossible. My power
level hasn't increased by as much as one point in the last few days that I have
been on Frieza's ship, when it would normally be increasing by at least five
points by now. I had never gone without training for so long. I only noticed it
when I got into a fight the other day and woke up this morning sore.
I just feel so… drained. How can I hope to beat
others when I feel beaten to my soul inside myself? It's not possible for me
anymore. I'm just losing track of who I am and what I am. And I can't stop
myself from going that way. I feel helpless and I hate it!
/Crying day and night now/
/What is wrong with me? /
/I cannot fight now/
/I feel like a weak link/
I'm slowly losing my sanity. Piece
by piece, losing my mind, it feels like it's just dripping slowly out of my
skull. Every time I bleed, I lose a little bit more; it's like I'm losing it
with my blood. Drip. Drip. Drip. Slowly dripping down, trickling, running down
my arm, my legs, all the little crimson drops trying to make their way onto the
floor, where my sanity and my pride lie in shattered pieces.
In some ways this is a good thing,
because for every bit of my blood, my sanity lost, my hate for Frieza grows
stronger. The loss of these things only serves to feed the hate that is growing
within me, day by day. Making room for its icy coldness by pushing out the
remains of my humanity, my sanity, but most of all my pride. The pride that in
turn took over the parts of my soul meant for the things that normal children
carry in them. Innocence, wonder, the capacity to see the good in people.
Reflexes that aren't above the normal level for a tiger! Some children actually
had the chance to trust people; some children hadn't soaked their hands in more
blood to fill their own bodies by the time they were three.
But I shouldn't think about the
past like that.
I shouldn't think about the past or
the future, I live for the present, otherwise I get depressed. On those too
long away missions on my own with nothing to do, when it would be so easy to
take the coward's way out and make it look as if I died in an accident. I can't
fight when I feel like that. I think that I'm trying to die subconsciously, I
find myself letting in blows that I easily could have blocked, letting my
defenses down at crucial times.
I'm defeating myself. I can't be
strong outside unless I feel strong inside. That was the reason for the intense
training I was put through as a child. So, I'm weak inside and I'm weak
outside, and as much as I try, I can't pull myself out of this slump.
/A weak link/
I sometimes think I wasn't worth
enough for Frieza to have held me hostage. It's terribly ironic that the Prince
of a planet is that planet's downfall, and it's worse that their Prince has
become one of the best warrior's for he who blew it up in the first place. It's
a good thing I don't have a religion anymore, or I might think that someone up
there is having a joke at my expense.
/It feels bad to be alone/
It
feels worse to know that you'll be isolated forever, because now you've been
trained to stay solitary, to keep other people as far as far away from you
emotionally as possible. Emotions are a liability. I learnt this under my
father and I am reminded of it every day under Frieza, when I see the grief on
the faces of those who are left behind when all their families have gone. I
myself have been the tool of their grief more times than I can count, and more
times than I care to remember.
Now,
even when people surround me, I am still alone. Believing in trust is like
believing in luck. Relying on something that isn't there instead of making your
own destiny.
Alone.
/Crying by yourself/
/Living in a broken home/
I've
stopped the emotionless crying that I used to do, I've conquered my body and it
reacts to my will. In the same way that I conquer planets… destroy anyone who
complains and anyone who tries to fight back and then hand the whole thing over
to Frieza who has taught me everything I know. Like my father. Or my father was
like him, both are correct. At least I was the Prince of a planet when my
father was my family. Here, I rule over all of two Saiyans. Any others who are
out there have probably been executed by now. Our race made many enemies
throughout space, and without the stronghold of Vejiitasei to come back to what
hope do they have?
To
say this was a broken home would be an understatement. All of Frieza's soldiers
look out for themselves, except a rare few who form groups and survive by
working better together than apart. If Frieza is a father figure, then he
doesn't like his 'children' to get along. Here, unity is a weakness.
/How can I tell it/
/So all y'all could feel it? /
The
barbarity of the way in which we live is unimaginable. We're all desensitized
to everything around us, we have no objective in life except to keep following
orders and surviving, apart from the desperate few who would rather die than
live in this hell
for a moment longer. It isn't living it's surviving, and the handful of us who
are strong enough to survive for more than a year or two lose all hope of ever
getting out from under the hand of that tyrant.
You
can't feel empathy unless you've been here, and that's something I wouldn't
even wish on my father.
/Depression strikes hard/
/Just like my old earth would tell it/
The
down pull of the oppressive environment, with its sneaks, its liars, its cruel
punishments and the constant state of mistrust that you have to live in creates
a mood over you so black that light would be sucked into it and converted. The
screams of the inhabitants of the planets that I've destroyed, as well as the
lives of their families, their friends- their children-
weighs itself on my soul, and I'm feeling things that no one my age should. If
I didn't have a duty to my few people, if I wasn't too proud to do it and if I
didn't have to get my revenge on that bastardization of the meaning of the word
'prince', the slimy lizard who is the cause of all this, I would have killed
myself years ago.
This
lust for death only happened on my planet when a bonded mate was left without
their partner- I understand how that feels now that I've lost my whole
birthright.
/To me, her son, she told me I'm the one/
My
mother used to tell me, when I was an infant, that I would grow up to be the
next Super-Saiyan, the first for many years, as I was born with an abnormally
high power level. It was this prophesizing that led to Frieza showing any
interest in me in the first place. I have to become a super-Saiyan for the sole
reason of mutilating, torturing and battering into the earth he who I have
worked for all this time, who is afraid of me, who was so afraid of me that he
blew up my whole race. Too bad for him that my mind was made up and my
determination set the minute I figured out what he had done.
So I train to honour my mother, fulfill my destiny
and stop the scourge that is Frieza before I begin to bore him and he decides
to kill me.
/Pain bottled up bout to blow like a gun/
I
wasn't extroverted as a child. Now, I can't help but show the only emotion that
I have left running through my veins. It's apparent in my scowl, in the way I
hold myself, in the unconsciously
defensive crossing of my arms. Even in my smirk, the nearest I'll ever get to a
smile. It's audible in the tone of my voice. I am blisteringly, incoherently,
explosively angry. All I need is a single excuse, looking at me the wrong way,
bumping into me, and anyone with a lower power level is dead, anyone with a
higher power level gets a good workout. I can never let it go. If I did, I'd be
hollow inside. I'm not even sure if that sadness that I used to feel so keenly
is there anymore, it's been so long since I stopped being angry long enough for
it settle in.
/Stories that I tell, are non-fiction/
/And you can't take it back coz' its already done/
The
things that I have done in my life, the planets I have cleared, the populations
that I've destroyed, seems like fantasy even to me. Dead worlds and dead
languages that no one remembers, creatures that could have come out of dreams.
But they were there once, I know because I stopped them.
There's
no one left to re-populate, no one left to revive dead languages. I make sure
that I kill everyone that I find, when it's possible. I can't take seeing any
more accusing faces, and I don't want any one else to end up like me, the
hollow mess of anger that I have become.
/Broken home/
/Broken home/
I
want somewhere to belong. I need to be grounded somewhere. I feel like I'm
floating along through this wretched existence.
I need a
purpose other than the one I have now.
What
will I have after I kill him?
/Can't seem to fight these feelings/
/Caught in the middle of this/
/And my wounds are not healing/
/Stuck in between my parents/
I
can't decide whether to keep living or to die. I don't know how I feel about
either one. I decided that it was too painful to let my feelings out, so I put
them in isolation inside myself. It's worth not feeling anything rather than
being hurt again. I can't heal those wounds where my feelings are, but at least
I won't have more wounds after this.
Radditz
tells me he may have found another Saiyan. I'll now have a race of three.
Gaining one is better than losing one I suppose, but I also know that this particular
Saiyan is a third-class, so he won't be much good for anything except cannon
fodder.
/Broken home/
/Broken home/
But
at least I can get away from here.
Was it
awful? And I know you hate me for not posting anymore of solky. See above. This
was my first songfic, and tho' I don't read that many myself I don't think I'll
be posting another one anytime soon. Keep your eyes peeled for the Placebo fic.
Later,
Assassin
