DISCLAIMER:   Even though it's been nearly a year since I updated this, I still don't own DBZ.  Not at all.  Not even the tiniest skerric.  I will own Vegeta one day (in name only).  That is my goal.  I shall achieve it. :)

Author Notes:  Thank you SO much for the reviews and the positive feedback. 
                        Jeril Dragonsoul:  I did a double-take when you reviewed this story.  I am honoured that one of my fave authors took the time out to review my work.  Thanx so much! *criez*

                       Crecy:   Yes, I agree with you that it is time to continue with this… although I don't know how long it will be until I update again… Just keep checking, maybe I will.  I'm still tryin to nut the story out in my head! :P 

                        Piccolo's Vampire Princess:   I'm updating it now so you got what you asked! ^_^

THE GAMES WE PLAY by `InSaNe`/Schizophrenic Eggplant
Chapter 3:  I've Always Lived Like This… Haven't I?

There was nothing but buzzing in a black nothingness.  Then she saw words and numbers appear before her, in categorical order.

Level: 1   Ki: 5   Exp: 100   Strength: 2   Health:  200/200   Power-Ups: 0   Items: None.  

They were bright green, and faded like a dying glo-stick, back to the darkness from whence they came.  As they did, the buzz grew louder, to the point it was getting annoying.   It was the most annoying noise that existed in the warm black universe.

"Mitzi!!  Wake up, turn your alarm off and get your lazy arse out of bed or you'll be late!"

Make that the second most annoying.  One eye opened, followed by the next, and then closed due to extremely blurry vision.  An arm whirled limply around to silence the offending clock, and fumbled trying to locate the 'off' switch.  The contours of the rectangular cuboid timepiece and noisemaker were unfamiliar to blind touch.  Eyes sprang open in reluctant anger, searching for the menacing switch.  Once found, the bedroom became bathed in silence.  The evil red LED numbers read 6:45.  More numbers.

In a half-asleep daze, she sat up.  Something wasn't quite right, but she couldn't put her finger on it.  Yesterday and beyond had seemed like a blur, and last nights sleep was very deep and dreamless, except the weird RPG stats she received nigh on waking.  She looked around her room, detached.  Everything was the same as it always was, yet the very ether seemed unsettled.  Blaming it on not being quite awake, she put on a robe and slippers and walked downstairs into the kitchen.

** Wasn't it always on the same level?**

Everything was bright.  TOO bright.

"Morning hon!  I've just made you some nice toast with raspberry jam!"  Chirped a cheerful looking mother-figure, with an apron around her middle.  Her smile was enough to give one a headache.

A tall man entered the room, wearing a crisp new suit, and a younger girl sat in a chair, spooning cereal into her mouth like there was no tomorrow.

"How's my Minni this morning?"  His baritone voice warmed the very soul.  He playfully ruffled the young girls dark brown hair.  She looked up from her cereal, as she was now distracted.

"DADDYYYYYYY!"  She squealed, as she opened her arms out for a Dad-sized hug, her eyes closed and turned into upside-down U's depicting unbound happiness, and he scooped her up, whirled her around the room a few times, and placed her back down in her seat.  Apart from slightly crooked glasses that he corrected, his suit was still impeccably pressed as ever.  He gave Mitzi a warm smile.

"And how's the budding scholar?  You do you any study last night?"  Mitzi gave him a blank look.  One he completely misinterpreted.

"Hey, I don't mean to pry!  I should know by now that I don't need to ask.  Do I get to wish you good luck for today?"  He winked at her as he picked up his briefcase, kissed the singing woman who placed some thick, uniformly-spread toast slices under Mitzi's nose; and walked out the door.  The sound of a fast car zoomed up the street, as the man left for work.  She hungrily took a bite of toast and chewed pensively.  Behind her blearily calm expression, her brain tried to kick into gear.  A few cogs seemed to be missing.

** Study?  Good luck?? TODAY???  I don't remember any exams I had to sit recently, but, what if… ** 

She put the toast down quickly and bolted up the stairs, back to her room. 

"Mitzi..!"  Her mum's startled cry of the unexpected sailed up after her.  Ignoring it, she scanned her room until she found her bag, and unpacked it.

A pristine folder greeted her, with all the subjects listed alphabetically.  English, Maths, History, Science…  which one was she supposed to have studied??

"DIARY!"  Mitzi had to remind herself.  For some unknown reason, it felt like years that she had been to school, when in fact it was only yesterday.  She flicked through the diary, only quickly glancing up to the calendar on the wall to see what the month was.

** November… That sounds about right.  End of year exams? **

Flipping through the month of November, she came upon some words in huge, happy writing:

MATHS!!!!! and HISTORY!!!!   With a little smiley face next to 'history', for a reason she guessed was that it was her favourite subject.  Sighing unhappily, she placed the folder back in her bag, and walked over to the full-length mirror on the back of her bedroom door.  Her black hipster flared jeans hugged her upper thighs like they were a second skin, and hung below her navel in an alluring manner.  They were a little holey and worn in some places, but they were her favourite pair, and nothing and no-one was going to make her discard them.  A tight black t-shirt, with "Make Me!" in silver lettering, stretched across her seventeen-year-old breasts.  Irritably, she noted that a small annoying strand of her dark hair stuck out from the rest.  It was scruffy mid-length hair, which she tried to keep reasonably straight and tidy with a special chemical treatment.  Squeezing some of the treatment out of the tube, she smoothed the offending piece down.  Dark eyes regarded her reflection critically, until she turned away.  She went to wash the remainder of the sticky hair treatment off her hands, and became somewhat surprised when she couldn't feel the greasy texture between her fingers.  That's something that hadn't happened before.

Suddenly she felt an urge to get out of the house.  Call it instinct, call it sixth sense, or call it un-necessary paranoia.  Shouldering her bag, Mitzi rushed downstairs towards the front door.

The banging and stomping alerted her kitchen-confined mother.

"Mitzi dear you didn't finish your toast!"

SLAM!!!   The bland-tasting toast was the last thing on her mind as the door reverberated behind her.

Leaving it all behind, she focused on her new objective:  getting to school.  Only one thing was amiss – she couldn't remember the right streets.  Every street she sprinted up was almost just the same.  After another fruitless search along a street that had seemed promising, but ended up as a dead-end slum, she slowed herself to a walk.  To her relief, she saw signs of life back on the main road, and went to take off into a run again, but found she couldn't move.

"Wha…?"

"One more noise and your dead, missy!" Hissed a gruff voice, as greasy hands took her bag and slid briefly under her t-shirt.  She heard a slight grunt of approval at what the owner of those hands had found there.

"Hey Griz, you take her money, and I'll just take her."  Obscene mocking laughter filled her ears.

"No way, Moke, you said we'd split the goods 50-50!  She looks like she wants it, be a bit o' fun don't ya think?"  The one called Moke smacked his lips in agreement.

Mitzi struggled as much as she could without screaming.  She did not like this situation one bit and wanted to get out.  She couldn't remember what to do in positions like this… do you do what the men say or do you fight back or do you use your brain and try and reach a compromise?  Who was she kidding, how does one reason with the unreasonable?

Pressure dug in around her neck and ribs, where she was tightly held, and the tip of a sharp blade pressed between the blades of her shoulders, that reminded her of its presence each time she moved.   Something bit at her mind; the notion that she wouldn't get out of this alive, even after the thugs had had their fun.  Guys like that didn't just leave you alone after they were finished, to them others lives were expendable.  But what could she do?  She didn't know how to fight, how to defend herself, she was just a weak vulnerable girl, in a world of strong brutish males.  An unfamiliar feeling welled up inside her, that twisted around her guts, clawed up her spine, and exploded in her brain like acid, corroding the hopelessness that was dwelling there.  For a moment she went slack, like she had finally given up the fight.  She let the men's sentences fuel her hatred, each word a glowing ember of homicidal motivation.

"I think we have a ready customer Moke, we've tamed the she-devil!"

"Well, it's about time the little flossie's broken!"   Moke gleefully replied, then his eyes focussed on the words on her t-shirt.

"'Make Me!'?" He mused, before his thin lips twisted into a smile of teeth like dulled ivory piano keys.  "Oh, we'll make you alright."

Griz brought himself around to face her, his body pressed dominantly and unwelcomingly close, and bent down to be equal to her height.  She could smell a scent of unwashed clothes, saturated in stale sweat, alcohol and an unidentifiable smoky odour.  His yellowed teeth seemed to ooze a sickly-sweet smell, that made Mitzi's nose wrinkle.  Greasy, lanky hair covered his forehead, obscuring an uneven receding hairline, and hid the scars on his face.  His dark, liquid eyes surrounded by bloodshot veins regarded her with lecherous menace, looking like burnt fried eggs in the middle of a white cracked griddle.

"Heh heh heh.." He laughed in a slow wheeze, covering her in his rotting cheese breath that would make a sewer rat faint.  "Make you scream, and that's only the beginning."  He breathed in deeply and noisily through his nose, clearing the crusted mucus, or smelling her fear.

Mitzi picked her moment.  It was do or die.

"We've got plans for you, missy." Moke's gravely voice drawled.

Griz motioned to Moke to relax his hold a little bit so he could gain further access in order to violate their young victim.  That was all she needed.  With the pressure released slightly, Mitzi used the element of surprise.  Determination blazing in her eyes, she used the power of desperation to wrench out of their grasp, and make a dash for freedom.  A rough hand grabbed the strap of her schoolbag as she was pulling away.  With the other arm, she turned and punched her assailant as hard as she could.  Griz had managed to dodge the full impact of the blow, Mitzi's fist merely grazed his stubbly cheek.

"YEEOOOW!!! You stupid bitch!"  Grazed it may have, but it had caused some damage.  Moke stared at Mitzi, knowing that something wasn't quite right. 

"Whaddya thinkyer doin, ged her!" Griz barked through a swelling face.  Mitzi sprinted up the alley, back the way she came, not looking back.  She swore she could feel hot, fetid breath on the back of her neck.  Arms and legs pumping in a frenzy, she didn't dare stop.  Until that decision was made for her, by a faster, solider object.  Everything went black, with no pain.

~~~~~~~~~           ~~~~~~~~~~~           ~~~~~~~~

Conscious thought still remained.

"Wha… what happened?" 

"You died."  A female voice.  A familiar voice.  As if she had never heard it, yet had only heard it a few moments ago.

"D-Died?  But I got away from those guys!"  Mitzi felt like her mental voice was deeper than it normally was.

"Yes, you did.  That was a great effort, but you weren't so lucky with the hover-bus.  You never saw it coming, you were so panicked."

"Hover-bus?  Whoa, messy.  So what now?  I've always wondered what the afterlife is like."   

"You go back."

"BACK?  But you just said I was dead!"

"Only temporarily.  Soon you'll be placed back as if it had never happened.  You will never recall this time or place."

"Like reincarnation?" 

"Yes.  Except you will still be you."

"Weird.  This doesn't happen everyday." 

The other voice chuckled.  "No, it doesn't.  Now time to go.  Trust your instincts a little more this time."

"Um… OK."  Mitzi was a bit taken aback at all this.  She'd been killed, and now she was getting another chance?