AN: This chapter probably contains the most cussing out of all of them so
far. That and some unpleasant memories of the twins' father. So if ya don't
like that sort of thing, don't read. I tried not to go overboard, so I
don't think it's really anything to worry about. They're delinquents,
remember?
Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and it's characters don't belong to me. I just find pleasure in putting them through hell and back⦠^__-
Shades of Black
I shivered, attempting to warm my bare arms with my hands. The night air was damp and frozen as we stood in the white landscape. The trees cast blue shadows on the snow, the only light coming from the moon above us. I eyed the crumpled form on the ground with disgust.
"Damn bastard trashed my coat," I complained, picking up the shredded garment and attempting to wipe off some of the snow and blood. Glaring in frustration, I threw it on the ground. "Ah, screw it."
"Hn. What a waste of time," my sister sneered, kicking her victim in the ribs. "He didn't have any money on him."
I turned and smirked at my blonde, female counterpart. "Well, at least we got to have the fun of beating the shit out of them."
She rolled her eyes. "You are such an idiot."
I ignored her insult, immune to her icy words. "So what now? There wasn't a single thing on them worth more than a buck. And now I don't have a coat either. This sucks."
"Dammit," she swore. "It's been two days since the last time I ate something. I'm tired of wandering around the middle of nowhere, wasting my time beating up travelers, and freezing my ass off in the snow."
"Fine. Let's go back," I grumbled. Her eyes widened.
"You can't be serious."
"I'm perfectly serious. I'm not going to let that jerk keep us out of our own house. I'm going back."
"No!" She looked at me with pleading eyes, clearly revealing the fear in them that I knew a little too well. It was hidden behind my blue eyes too, but I refused to let her know I was scared.
"Please," she begged, now on the verge of tears. It hurt me to see her like this, but I had already made up my mind. "You'll get killed if you go back now."
"Look, I won't let him catch me. I'm just going to sneak in, get some food and get out of there," I promised.
"Fine," she mumbled, clearly angry with my decsion.
"We can't keep living like this," I blurted. "The two of us together have got to be stronger than he is. We gotta get some money, buy an apartment or something, and get Mom out of there."
"We can't do this," she protested. "What if he found us? This is crazy. I'm not that eager to watch Mom die!"
"Oh, but you'd rather sit by and watch him beat and rape her?" I countered. She turned away from me, trying to hide her tears. "I'm not going to hide from him anymore. As soon as we get some money, we're getting her out."
Determined, I began to head in the direction of the suburbs. My twin ran up to me, grabbing me by the wrist.
"I'm not going to let you go and get yourself killed!" she shouted.
I yanked my arm out of her grip, not without some difficulty, and glared. "I don't care! You can't stop me, and I am going back, and I am not going to hide from him anymore. You can hide under the bed crying while he beats Mom, but I'm not letting that happen again!"
Her eyes widened, and she backed away, her face contorted with pain. Then, before I could react, she jumped forward and slammed her fist into my jaw. Caught off guard, I flew backwards, landing hard in the snow.
She stood alone trembling, body shaking with sobs. I moved a hand in shock to wipe the blood from my mouth. I continued to stare at her in awe, the wet snow soaking through my thin clothes.
She glared at me. "How dare you?"
I cursed myself silently, wondering what could've driven me to hurt her like that. My sister was not a coward, and her strength and pride meant more to her than her own life. But when we were younger, there had been one time when our mother had stood up for us. It was right after she had remarried, about a year after our father was killed. As usual, the bastard was drunk again, and anything could set off his violent temper. And once again, it had been me.
He had told me to shut up and go to my room, so I had. But being the stupid brat that I was, I immediately slammed the door and turned my stereo on as loud as I dared. He had only hit me twice before, and each time my mother was too scared to stop him. I hadn't really been expecting him to beat me; I guess I just wanted to see how far he'd go.
I heard the heavy, irregular footsteps thumping up the stairs and down the hall towards my room, and my blood ran cold. But I swallowed back the lump of fear in my throat, believing that I was tough enough to take a hit. But I was only nine.
He stormed into my room, screaming at me. Picking up the stereo he smashed it against the wall. I was furious, and lunged at him, getting a hit in. I guess I got him pretty good, because his nose started bleeding. A million curses flowed out of his mouth, and he slammed his fist into my face. I landed hard against the bed, blood starting to seep from a gash in my forehead. My sister had been in the room with me since we shared the bedroom, and she ran forward, not caring that he was still there screaming at her.
She tried to get me away, but he shoved her aside like a rag doll. I think she broke her wrist from landing wrong. My mom showed up then. She hadn't known that he was abusive, at least not to this extent. And she had known nothing about it before they were married. But I always knew, even before, I could just tell, and I had always hated him. My sister felt the same way.
They argued for awhile, I can't remember what they said because I was already half out of it by this time, and quickly losing consciousness. My twin was scared, but even though she was hurt she dragged me under the bed away from him. I was still just barely awake, and struggling as hard as I could to get out of there and help mom; he had started beating her by then.
I won't go into anymore details about happened after that, but that was the first time I ever saw my sister truly scared, saw my mother bruised and beaten, the first time I had ever learned what it truly was to be helpless. I guess because I was a boy I always felt that it was my job to get rid of him one day. But about a year ago, he had finally kicked me out of the house. I suppose because I kept getting in trouble with the cops, and the cops were the last thing he wanted hanging around his house.
My twin came with me, and for the first couple of weeks we just wandered around on the streets, eating whatever we could find. There was one occasion when a stranger had brought us in, but other than that we were shown no hospitality. So after awhile, we left to go up to the mountains, and we basically robbed travelers that came by. Things were okay until winter came. There were less travelers, and the only people going by were the ones to poor to afford a warmer means of transportation, so they were worthless.
So here we were, wandering around in the middle of nowhere in the night in the snow, without any warmth or shelter. We usually stayed in a cave nearby, but it was damp now, and it didn't help a lot since we couldn't get a fire going. My sister stood in front of me, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away roughly, her hand pale and shaking with cold and anger.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. She seemed to notice that I meant what I said, but that still didn't take away her anger. She was not one to forgive easily.
I stood up, brushing myself off, now wet and even colder than before. "I'm sorry," I repeated again. "But I'm going back. Come if you want."
Leaving her behind me, I turned and walked away, back down the frozen trail. The lights of the city could be seen just over the ridge of the next hill, and it wouldn't take me very long to reach the suburbs. I heard the crunching of snow and turned to see her walk up behind me.
"All right. If you go, then I go too," she said. "I haven't left you when you needed me before, and I'm not going to start now. But you sure as hell had better not get yourself killed, got it?"
"Hai," I agreed, and we began heading down the hill into the suburbs.
Disclaimer: Dragonball Z and it's characters don't belong to me. I just find pleasure in putting them through hell and back⦠^__-
Shades of Black
I shivered, attempting to warm my bare arms with my hands. The night air was damp and frozen as we stood in the white landscape. The trees cast blue shadows on the snow, the only light coming from the moon above us. I eyed the crumpled form on the ground with disgust.
"Damn bastard trashed my coat," I complained, picking up the shredded garment and attempting to wipe off some of the snow and blood. Glaring in frustration, I threw it on the ground. "Ah, screw it."
"Hn. What a waste of time," my sister sneered, kicking her victim in the ribs. "He didn't have any money on him."
I turned and smirked at my blonde, female counterpart. "Well, at least we got to have the fun of beating the shit out of them."
She rolled her eyes. "You are such an idiot."
I ignored her insult, immune to her icy words. "So what now? There wasn't a single thing on them worth more than a buck. And now I don't have a coat either. This sucks."
"Dammit," she swore. "It's been two days since the last time I ate something. I'm tired of wandering around the middle of nowhere, wasting my time beating up travelers, and freezing my ass off in the snow."
"Fine. Let's go back," I grumbled. Her eyes widened.
"You can't be serious."
"I'm perfectly serious. I'm not going to let that jerk keep us out of our own house. I'm going back."
"No!" She looked at me with pleading eyes, clearly revealing the fear in them that I knew a little too well. It was hidden behind my blue eyes too, but I refused to let her know I was scared.
"Please," she begged, now on the verge of tears. It hurt me to see her like this, but I had already made up my mind. "You'll get killed if you go back now."
"Look, I won't let him catch me. I'm just going to sneak in, get some food and get out of there," I promised.
"Fine," she mumbled, clearly angry with my decsion.
"We can't keep living like this," I blurted. "The two of us together have got to be stronger than he is. We gotta get some money, buy an apartment or something, and get Mom out of there."
"We can't do this," she protested. "What if he found us? This is crazy. I'm not that eager to watch Mom die!"
"Oh, but you'd rather sit by and watch him beat and rape her?" I countered. She turned away from me, trying to hide her tears. "I'm not going to hide from him anymore. As soon as we get some money, we're getting her out."
Determined, I began to head in the direction of the suburbs. My twin ran up to me, grabbing me by the wrist.
"I'm not going to let you go and get yourself killed!" she shouted.
I yanked my arm out of her grip, not without some difficulty, and glared. "I don't care! You can't stop me, and I am going back, and I am not going to hide from him anymore. You can hide under the bed crying while he beats Mom, but I'm not letting that happen again!"
Her eyes widened, and she backed away, her face contorted with pain. Then, before I could react, she jumped forward and slammed her fist into my jaw. Caught off guard, I flew backwards, landing hard in the snow.
She stood alone trembling, body shaking with sobs. I moved a hand in shock to wipe the blood from my mouth. I continued to stare at her in awe, the wet snow soaking through my thin clothes.
She glared at me. "How dare you?"
I cursed myself silently, wondering what could've driven me to hurt her like that. My sister was not a coward, and her strength and pride meant more to her than her own life. But when we were younger, there had been one time when our mother had stood up for us. It was right after she had remarried, about a year after our father was killed. As usual, the bastard was drunk again, and anything could set off his violent temper. And once again, it had been me.
He had told me to shut up and go to my room, so I had. But being the stupid brat that I was, I immediately slammed the door and turned my stereo on as loud as I dared. He had only hit me twice before, and each time my mother was too scared to stop him. I hadn't really been expecting him to beat me; I guess I just wanted to see how far he'd go.
I heard the heavy, irregular footsteps thumping up the stairs and down the hall towards my room, and my blood ran cold. But I swallowed back the lump of fear in my throat, believing that I was tough enough to take a hit. But I was only nine.
He stormed into my room, screaming at me. Picking up the stereo he smashed it against the wall. I was furious, and lunged at him, getting a hit in. I guess I got him pretty good, because his nose started bleeding. A million curses flowed out of his mouth, and he slammed his fist into my face. I landed hard against the bed, blood starting to seep from a gash in my forehead. My sister had been in the room with me since we shared the bedroom, and she ran forward, not caring that he was still there screaming at her.
She tried to get me away, but he shoved her aside like a rag doll. I think she broke her wrist from landing wrong. My mom showed up then. She hadn't known that he was abusive, at least not to this extent. And she had known nothing about it before they were married. But I always knew, even before, I could just tell, and I had always hated him. My sister felt the same way.
They argued for awhile, I can't remember what they said because I was already half out of it by this time, and quickly losing consciousness. My twin was scared, but even though she was hurt she dragged me under the bed away from him. I was still just barely awake, and struggling as hard as I could to get out of there and help mom; he had started beating her by then.
I won't go into anymore details about happened after that, but that was the first time I ever saw my sister truly scared, saw my mother bruised and beaten, the first time I had ever learned what it truly was to be helpless. I guess because I was a boy I always felt that it was my job to get rid of him one day. But about a year ago, he had finally kicked me out of the house. I suppose because I kept getting in trouble with the cops, and the cops were the last thing he wanted hanging around his house.
My twin came with me, and for the first couple of weeks we just wandered around on the streets, eating whatever we could find. There was one occasion when a stranger had brought us in, but other than that we were shown no hospitality. So after awhile, we left to go up to the mountains, and we basically robbed travelers that came by. Things were okay until winter came. There were less travelers, and the only people going by were the ones to poor to afford a warmer means of transportation, so they were worthless.
So here we were, wandering around in the middle of nowhere in the night in the snow, without any warmth or shelter. We usually stayed in a cave nearby, but it was damp now, and it didn't help a lot since we couldn't get a fire going. My sister stood in front of me, tears still streaming down her cheeks. She reached up to wipe them away roughly, her hand pale and shaking with cold and anger.
"I'm sorry," I whispered. She seemed to notice that I meant what I said, but that still didn't take away her anger. She was not one to forgive easily.
I stood up, brushing myself off, now wet and even colder than before. "I'm sorry," I repeated again. "But I'm going back. Come if you want."
Leaving her behind me, I turned and walked away, back down the frozen trail. The lights of the city could be seen just over the ridge of the next hill, and it wouldn't take me very long to reach the suburbs. I heard the crunching of snow and turned to see her walk up behind me.
"All right. If you go, then I go too," she said. "I haven't left you when you needed me before, and I'm not going to start now. But you sure as hell had better not get yourself killed, got it?"
"Hai," I agreed, and we began heading down the hill into the suburbs.
