First of all, I apologise for my last chapter... personally I didn't think it was THAT bad, I got no reviews -_-;; Well, never mind, enjoy this one *nervous laugh*
SOMETHING CALLED LIFE
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It was a lonely walk back to my apartment, what with the streets buzzing with excitement that didn't, and never will, include me. Looking around, I realised that everyone had at least one person that they were with. And those that were alone, well, I'd bet that they weren't feeling like I was, for sure.
But then that was how it had always been. It came to me as something natural; I've learned to care less. But then again, I think I've learned to care too little, for now it had come back at me with full force. Why did Goten have to bring out that part of me? It was okay when I was continuously isolated.
Oh who was I kidding?
The way I felt when I'd interacted with him was like thick ice had been broken! I was almost ecstatic, and I'm certainly going to hang on to something like that. The thought of a friend brought a tiny smile to my face just as I headed up the stairs at the end of the hall. It was dimly lit and made the building look a little artificial, seeing as the sun was still providing rays outdoors. On my way up to the fourth floor, I greeted the lady on the wall as usual. She was a painting of a ballerina, so serene and graceful. So full of shit, the world wasn't really like that, little Miss. Instead, it's full of people that couldn't care less about each other and are always out for themselves. Chantelle, Mike*, and probably even Goten, they're all the same. Hopefully not Goten, though.
The key turned and unlocked the latch, emitting a familiar sound. As soon as I was in my home, I purposely stumbled and fell onto the couch. It was so inviting. The ceiling greeted me with its usual peeling plaster. Things were never different. As much as I tried not to be routinely, it just came back and hit me in the face. I'd have to deal with it. I was routine, a boring girl in a messed-up world.
So this was it, and most probably how it's always going to be. Waking up, going work, hating work, coming home, falling onto the couch, making dinner, watching TV, taking a shower, thinking random stuff, then going sleep. A repetitive agenda, the never-ending circle of my doom, something called my life.
The most extravagant thing that I could manage to concoct for dinner was a microwave lasagne and steamed vegetables. Usually I would have cooked some noodles or gotten some takeaway Mexican food, but the noodles were out and I was low on cash. The only thing that could satisfy my hunger was some lousy broccoli and zero quality baked 'goods'. I remember staring at the broccoli for about, let's say, what seemed like a day, before I even considered it as food to eat. I was in such a daze; my mind was going anti-clockwise again.
However, I did finish up my platter of delicatessen before I skipped the TV part and headed straight for a shower. It was refreshing to say the least.
It wasn't until half an hour since I'd originally got into my bed that I fell asleep. My mind was- once again- racing with opinions about the world, and drawing up philosophical results about mankind. Wasn't I just a geek? I did manage to work out, though, that life seemed to be an endless existence of unfairness, and that the only excitement I'd get out of it was my buttered broccoli.
That or meeting my one friend Goten again.
"Goten, apologise to Trunks. That's an order."
He looked at his mother sadly and sulked. "But I did nothing wrong!"
Honestly, what on earth was I doing here, at this time, resolving this? I thought I was twenty-four now, but it seemed that the parents still regarded us as seven.
"You burned my kitchen down, Goten." I reminded, not once letting my friend forget about how he foolishly left the stove on, and adding that extra snare to his name. When was this boy going to learn that actions had consequences? And that thinking every once in a while might actually invoke thoughtful actions? I know that Goten was born stupid, but to think, after twenty years of his life, he must have learned something.
He was really testing my patience now, I could feel the pulse on my neck as I pierced my eyes into him, and contained myself the best I could from doing any further harm. You should have seen me earlier; I beat the crap out of him.
"Sorry, Trunks." came the awaited answer. Of course, I wasn't the one awaiting it. He was pleasing his mother, not me. The only way Goten could bring me any happiness was to stand in the middle of railway tracks blindfolded.
Everyone and anyone knew that the minute Chichi left the room, Goten and I would go into full attack mode and kill each other.
But lucky for him, I was busy today.
Promptly, they left my office and once again, I was on my own. Good, I liked solitude, I longed for solitude, I could live in this world all by myself, and it wouldn't matter. What good were thousands of friends if they never appreciated you and only hung around you because you were rich? The only way that you'd get something done is if you do it yourself. The only way that you'd be truly happy is if you depend on yourself.
It was getting late; two hours had gone since Goten left, and I decided it would be better to go home instead of hang around the office any later. I bid my colleagues fake farewells as usual, no emotion having been given in the gesture. I sometimes wondered why I did it, then I remembered what kind of world we were living in.
The world of those happy fairies dancing around, like maniacs with their so-called 'meaning'.
You know, I was an example of one of the people that Trunks despised.
Yeah, it's true. I was typical, like the common people that Trunks frowned upon. I would never be 'deep' enough to understand his mind. I was happy-go-lucky, the complete opposite.
I know all too well about Trunks's hatred for the world. I know too well about his past, it's sad, so very disappointing. I didn't know the whole of it, but I knew enough to work out that she was cheating on Trunks, taking him for all his worth, all the while bonking some bastard behind his back. His loyalty to the bitch was endless, and what did he get in return? Shit. Trunks's demons usually caught up to him on a regular basis, clouding his rational thoughts with evil and fire. I know that my language about the subject isn't suitable nor does it make sense, but I know what I feel for my best friend, and that's downright, furious loyalty. Man, we'd been together since we were born, well, since I was born, and Trunks taught me everything about the world. That is, until all of its negative issues brought themselves upon him.
I know a great deal more than I let on.
And I also knew that inside him, there was a tiny, itsy-bitsy, little tag, that if you pulled, the real Trunks would come out. A tag of hope.
Well, not exactly the best metaphor, but I'm sure you know what I mean.
The way Trunks looked at me in his office, I think he really wanted to kill me. It was nothing like the looks he shot me before. In addition to that, Trunks seemed really worn out, like he was really tired. I couldn't figure out why, but I suspected that it wasn't entirely down to me, making him feel that way.
Ever since Trunks took over Capsule Corp., he'd really lost his spark. Coincidentally, that was also the time when he split up with that terrible girl. The sparks in his eyes were replaced by dark, damp-looking stones, and even his hair seemed to have become a darker purple. I wasn't sure if it was all exactly possible to get darker hair from stress but I knew it was something along those lines. Maybe Saiyans' hair gets darker instead of them growing grey ones? Interesting.
Maybe Vegeta used to be a redhead? And got so stressed that his hair turned black? Creepy.
I obviously wasn't in the best of moods when my mom drove me home that night. What made it worst was the fact that I didn't even get to go all full-out sparring mode with Trunks! I really felt like something had been lost along the way. I don't blame Trunks for thinking like he did, considering what happened to him, but at least a little effort would have been nice. The least that showed me the old Trunks was still there was the fact that he'd always make an effort to spar with me. And if he wasn't exactly making effort to spar with me per se, I'd have been honored that I was the one he chose to thrash. Yes, really, I would have been honored. Besides, Trunks builds hidden emotion through his actions, you know? The emotions that he lost the ability to express through words. I would gladly give anything for Trunks to beat me.
I felt like something had died inside him, and the continuous question kept popping into my head. Was Trunks even my best friend anymore?
Has my one only friend in this world completely torn himself away from me?
Oh dear, what a shambles we have gotten ourselves into my clueless Goten. No, Trunks doesn't hate you!! He was just busy!!
Oh! Hi there folks! This chapter has certainly revealed a lot, huh? Maybe a little too much O_O even so, I'm sure most of you has got the gist of it by now? No? *sigh* Let me explain just in case. The 'past' that Goten is talking about, we won't go into too much detail about that now, but we all know that it has affected Trunks majorly, right? Yes? Okay. So now he's just lying there like a closed book with pretty decoration on.
I think that was the worst analogy I have ever made in my previous fifteen years of life, let me rephrase. So now Trunks is just lying there like a closed book that no one can read, but has pretty decoration on, much like the facade that he is hiding behind. We do not know the real Trunks yet.
... There are also other hidden meanings behind this chapter, can you find them?
I hope that y'all have enjoyed this chapter, and that it wasn't too boring. If so, too bad there's nothing I'm going to do about it. Bye people!
Chao chao, Kreeestal.