Providence
formerly known as: Untitled (6)
We sit on a bench overlooking some famous painting whose artist's name, as well as the title of the piece, escapes me. I casually chew on the spice drops I bought on our way here. We sit in companionable silence. I pay more mind to the people walking by than I do to the painting. I wonder what they're thinking right now. Art is simply a concept I won't understand, at least, not in the way humans do. I could always devulge myself and read their minds, but it's not exactly the easiest of procedures, and I personally don't like to invade people's privacy for my own amusement. I finish off the small bag of candy, crumple it up, and put it in my pocket for proper disposal later. I then turn and look at Josie.
Since she's come to reside at Mrs. Tarintino's, her complexion has actually darkened. She looks more healthy than she did - probably due to her new eating habits, and to the fact that she usually follows me around outside on walks. Her attitude has brightened and she's become more bold and outgoing. She seems completely normal now, so it confuses me as to why she's so depressed. They say curiosity killed the cat, so I suppose it's a good thing that I'm not a cat.
"Josie, why do you want to die?"
She looks into my eyes - searching them for the reason behind my impromptu questioning. Her expression is one of apprehension, and maybe a twinge of fear. She takes a deep breath then shifts her weight onto her arms as she leans back. Her stare is intent on the picture before us, and she does not look away when she speaks.
"When you talk.. you tell exactly what's on your mind. You don't care what other people think of you, and you are never bothered with the consequences and reprecussions. You expose yourself without hesitation, and when you speak.. it's like it's nothing at all to release intimate details. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're a lot stronger in some areas than I am."
I'm not exactly sure where she's going with this, so I decide to take it easy. I nod just a bit and reply, "Okay.."
"It's difficult for me to express myself," she adds after another moment. After taking a deep breath, she looks back at me again with those same searching eyes. I try to give her the most attentive, neutral look I can muster. I even refrain from scrunching my eyebrows like they're normally inclined to do. Oddly enough, she smiles.
"But that's what inspires me.." she speaks softly, "When I see that you can do it, I think that - maybe - I can do it too." I can see the tears gather in her eyes. She's trembling, and I reluctantly reach out. I'm not good at this sort of thing. I never seemed to be able to relate to other people and get close enough to them to make them relax. I'm just not good at this comfort thing.. but I try. I place my hand on her shoulder lightly, carefully. She could brush it away with ease if she wished, but she doesn't.
"When I was a kid, my dad raped me," she blurts out. When her eyes meet mine again, I can see the hope in her eyes.
Please, don't think any less of me...
"Why would I think any less of you?" I respond with confusion and contained anger at her father.
"Vegeta.." she stares at me with her eyes wide, "I didn't say anything..."
Am I going crazy? I didn't just fabricate this, did I? I don't need to hallucinate while I'm depressed; I have enough problems as it is. "He didn't rape you?" I ask, so very confused. I remove my hand from her, fearing I've intruded. I place it on the bench.
"No!" Josie becomes flustered and her emotions nearly go out of control, "I didn't say for you to not think less of me! I thought it!"
Great. Her thoughts were so powerful they projected right onto my psyche without me realizing it wasn't vocal speech. "Oh," I reply. It seems like the only thing I can manage to say without causing her more discomfort. I shouldn't have asked and made her upset like this. It was uncalled for.
It makes me wonder. How can a father do that to their child? It fills me with disgust just thinking about it. Simply imagining the abuse causes bile to rise in the back of my throat. I think I understand now though. Poor little Josie... never moving forward because he trapped her in the past with that pain. He's made her feel worthless, like no one would want or like her for who she is. He's made her think that it was her fault and not his.
I can sense myself shaking from rage. Selfish bastard. I know who he reminds me of. I know who Josie reminds me of too.
"Vegeta..?" Josie's soft, feminine voice drags me from my thoughts.
"Hm?" I look at her, trying to appear open and receptive. Her eyes glance downward, then back up to my face. I follow the direction of the glance and slowly extract my fingers out of the concrete bench. She reaches out and takes my hand in hers. Her digits at thin and fine, her nails natural, but trimmed perfectly. She's been taking such good care of herself recently. Josie examines my hand with great interest.
"It's like.. you're some sort of Superman," she murmurs quietly in awe.
I can't help it. I reply, "Super Saijin, actually." It's such a horribly lame pun that it amuses me. It's as if being unfunny makes it humorous. However, Josie's ignorance sort of spoils the effect.
"Saijin?" she inquires, looking positively puzzled by the word. She releases my hand as well.
"I'll.. show you later," I refrain from explaining. It's the best offer I can give her at the moment, as I don't wish to transform in the middle of an art gallery. Besides, it'd probably be best if I did some warm-ups before hand. It's been awhile since I've ascended. I haven't ever since.. that day, in fact. I quickly divert my thoughts to something else, "In the mean time, what do you want to do?"
"Huh? I dunno..." she responds flippantly, as if I was talking about which movie we'd want to rent or something as equally inane.
"I meant about your father. What do you want to do?" I elaborate. Josie stares at me so I can see all the pain inside of her. I wish it wasn't so easy for humans to bare their emotions at times. She's not ready to be on her own yet. She needs someone to look up to and someone to take care of her. Deep down, she probably needs someone to be the father she never had - the kind that helps you ride your first bike without training wheels and takes you to work with them just so you can have a day off of school. She needs someone who can protect her. She needs me.
I wasn't the kind of father kids would brag about to their friends. I never expressed any interest in education or extra-curricular activities. However, I loved my children. If they needed me, they had only needed to ask. I would have done anything for them. Right now, I'm thinking I could do anything for Josie. No one should endure what she's been put through. I'd do anything to make her feel like a person again. Yeah, I'd even kill again if it came to that.
"What can I do?" she eventually brings herself to say. She sounds defeated already.
"For starters, you can stop blaming yourself," I say with an edge of hostility, but it isn't aimed towards her, "Josie, whatever he did to you was because he was selfish and unloving. Did he ever try to apologize for what he's done?"
"No.." she speaks so softly now - it's like when we first met. Fragile. That's it. She seems fragile, as if these words could break her, "..He just pretended it never happened."
"And how do you feel about that?" I ask. Geez, I sound like one of those doctors I've had to visit. Of course, I'm going to be a lot more blunt than they are, and I'm definitely not a professional in this area.
"Hurt..?" she says as an inquiry - as if she's hoping this is the right answer.
I nod and praise her, "Hurt. Good. I'd feel hurt too. Except, I have a tendency to get angry. So what would help it hurt less?"
"I don't know!" she raises her voice in her frustration. Hmm.. it appears that I'm not the only one who'd get angry. "You act like this is just some problem you can solve! Well, you can't! You can't give me my innocence back!" she starts to yell, clearly losing control of her emotions.
"You think I don't know that?" I calmly respond, "Josie, remember when we first met and I told you I was an ex-homicidal maniac?" I wait for her to nod. Then, I continue, "I wasn't lying then, and I'm not lying now. You know I'm not human. You know I've come from somewhere.. elsewhere in the universe. What you don't know is that by the age of five I was a trained killer. Don't believe me? Remember how I shot myself, Josie? Remember how it didn't do a damn thing? Remember, just now, how I sunk my fingers into a slab of concrete without even noticing? I know what it's like to not be innocent. It's a horrible feeling that can eat you up. But, you're wrong. This is a problem, and it can be solved. Not by me, but you. I'm just here as back-up. When you decide you want to begin feeling better about yourself, that's when we can actually get started."
After a few, tense seconds, she shoots back, "What do you want me to say?"
"What do I want you to say? I don't want you to say anything unless it's something you want to say," I reply.
"So, what now?" she says bitterly. She must be really pissed at me right now.
"Now? Well, are you ready to quit moping around and move on with your life?"
"Yes!"
"Good. Then, you decide what you want to do about your dad."
She screams suddenly, "I WANT HIM FUCKING DEAD!"
Whoa! Lots of anger inside of her! She's so self-conscious she must never let it out. Anger like that is dangerous, and it doesn't suit her at all. Anger like that could actually fuel her into killing her dad, and she doesn't need to go to prison.
"Josie, there'll be no killing going on," I sternly hiss, ignoring all onlookers, "If you do that, you'll only succeed in getting yourself thrown into a shit-hole of a correctional facility. Besides, he probably would have no idea why you're killing him anyways. I know how whack-jobs like him think. I was.. raised by one. We're going to have to hit him where it hurts, then you make him remember what he's done, then you make him regret it. And if the fucking pig doesn't apologize, I'll make him apologize. And if he doesn't mean it.. then, I'll kill him. If you want. But not you, Josie. You can watch, but you can't do it."
"Why not?"
"Because you haven't killed anyone before, and I think you'll find out that once you do, it isn't so great."
No matter how angry you are or how much they deserve it, I add to myself silently.
---
A/N: Here's an answer to a review I've received:
Renzuite asks, "So Videl kept her name Satan?"
Yes. I think Videl would keep her last name in marriage because it has a greater impact than "Son". Everyone already knows her as Videl Satan. I think that name is important to her, and I think she would keep it.
formerly known as: Untitled (6)
We sit on a bench overlooking some famous painting whose artist's name, as well as the title of the piece, escapes me. I casually chew on the spice drops I bought on our way here. We sit in companionable silence. I pay more mind to the people walking by than I do to the painting. I wonder what they're thinking right now. Art is simply a concept I won't understand, at least, not in the way humans do. I could always devulge myself and read their minds, but it's not exactly the easiest of procedures, and I personally don't like to invade people's privacy for my own amusement. I finish off the small bag of candy, crumple it up, and put it in my pocket for proper disposal later. I then turn and look at Josie.
Since she's come to reside at Mrs. Tarintino's, her complexion has actually darkened. She looks more healthy than she did - probably due to her new eating habits, and to the fact that she usually follows me around outside on walks. Her attitude has brightened and she's become more bold and outgoing. She seems completely normal now, so it confuses me as to why she's so depressed. They say curiosity killed the cat, so I suppose it's a good thing that I'm not a cat.
"Josie, why do you want to die?"
She looks into my eyes - searching them for the reason behind my impromptu questioning. Her expression is one of apprehension, and maybe a twinge of fear. She takes a deep breath then shifts her weight onto her arms as she leans back. Her stare is intent on the picture before us, and she does not look away when she speaks.
"When you talk.. you tell exactly what's on your mind. You don't care what other people think of you, and you are never bothered with the consequences and reprecussions. You expose yourself without hesitation, and when you speak.. it's like it's nothing at all to release intimate details. I guess what I'm trying to say is that you're a lot stronger in some areas than I am."
I'm not exactly sure where she's going with this, so I decide to take it easy. I nod just a bit and reply, "Okay.."
"It's difficult for me to express myself," she adds after another moment. After taking a deep breath, she looks back at me again with those same searching eyes. I try to give her the most attentive, neutral look I can muster. I even refrain from scrunching my eyebrows like they're normally inclined to do. Oddly enough, she smiles.
"But that's what inspires me.." she speaks softly, "When I see that you can do it, I think that - maybe - I can do it too." I can see the tears gather in her eyes. She's trembling, and I reluctantly reach out. I'm not good at this sort of thing. I never seemed to be able to relate to other people and get close enough to them to make them relax. I'm just not good at this comfort thing.. but I try. I place my hand on her shoulder lightly, carefully. She could brush it away with ease if she wished, but she doesn't.
"When I was a kid, my dad raped me," she blurts out. When her eyes meet mine again, I can see the hope in her eyes.
Please, don't think any less of me...
"Why would I think any less of you?" I respond with confusion and contained anger at her father.
"Vegeta.." she stares at me with her eyes wide, "I didn't say anything..."
Am I going crazy? I didn't just fabricate this, did I? I don't need to hallucinate while I'm depressed; I have enough problems as it is. "He didn't rape you?" I ask, so very confused. I remove my hand from her, fearing I've intruded. I place it on the bench.
"No!" Josie becomes flustered and her emotions nearly go out of control, "I didn't say for you to not think less of me! I thought it!"
Great. Her thoughts were so powerful they projected right onto my psyche without me realizing it wasn't vocal speech. "Oh," I reply. It seems like the only thing I can manage to say without causing her more discomfort. I shouldn't have asked and made her upset like this. It was uncalled for.
It makes me wonder. How can a father do that to their child? It fills me with disgust just thinking about it. Simply imagining the abuse causes bile to rise in the back of my throat. I think I understand now though. Poor little Josie... never moving forward because he trapped her in the past with that pain. He's made her feel worthless, like no one would want or like her for who she is. He's made her think that it was her fault and not his.
I can sense myself shaking from rage. Selfish bastard. I know who he reminds me of. I know who Josie reminds me of too.
"Vegeta..?" Josie's soft, feminine voice drags me from my thoughts.
"Hm?" I look at her, trying to appear open and receptive. Her eyes glance downward, then back up to my face. I follow the direction of the glance and slowly extract my fingers out of the concrete bench. She reaches out and takes my hand in hers. Her digits at thin and fine, her nails natural, but trimmed perfectly. She's been taking such good care of herself recently. Josie examines my hand with great interest.
"It's like.. you're some sort of Superman," she murmurs quietly in awe.
I can't help it. I reply, "Super Saijin, actually." It's such a horribly lame pun that it amuses me. It's as if being unfunny makes it humorous. However, Josie's ignorance sort of spoils the effect.
"Saijin?" she inquires, looking positively puzzled by the word. She releases my hand as well.
"I'll.. show you later," I refrain from explaining. It's the best offer I can give her at the moment, as I don't wish to transform in the middle of an art gallery. Besides, it'd probably be best if I did some warm-ups before hand. It's been awhile since I've ascended. I haven't ever since.. that day, in fact. I quickly divert my thoughts to something else, "In the mean time, what do you want to do?"
"Huh? I dunno..." she responds flippantly, as if I was talking about which movie we'd want to rent or something as equally inane.
"I meant about your father. What do you want to do?" I elaborate. Josie stares at me so I can see all the pain inside of her. I wish it wasn't so easy for humans to bare their emotions at times. She's not ready to be on her own yet. She needs someone to look up to and someone to take care of her. Deep down, she probably needs someone to be the father she never had - the kind that helps you ride your first bike without training wheels and takes you to work with them just so you can have a day off of school. She needs someone who can protect her. She needs me.
I wasn't the kind of father kids would brag about to their friends. I never expressed any interest in education or extra-curricular activities. However, I loved my children. If they needed me, they had only needed to ask. I would have done anything for them. Right now, I'm thinking I could do anything for Josie. No one should endure what she's been put through. I'd do anything to make her feel like a person again. Yeah, I'd even kill again if it came to that.
"What can I do?" she eventually brings herself to say. She sounds defeated already.
"For starters, you can stop blaming yourself," I say with an edge of hostility, but it isn't aimed towards her, "Josie, whatever he did to you was because he was selfish and unloving. Did he ever try to apologize for what he's done?"
"No.." she speaks so softly now - it's like when we first met. Fragile. That's it. She seems fragile, as if these words could break her, "..He just pretended it never happened."
"And how do you feel about that?" I ask. Geez, I sound like one of those doctors I've had to visit. Of course, I'm going to be a lot more blunt than they are, and I'm definitely not a professional in this area.
"Hurt..?" she says as an inquiry - as if she's hoping this is the right answer.
I nod and praise her, "Hurt. Good. I'd feel hurt too. Except, I have a tendency to get angry. So what would help it hurt less?"
"I don't know!" she raises her voice in her frustration. Hmm.. it appears that I'm not the only one who'd get angry. "You act like this is just some problem you can solve! Well, you can't! You can't give me my innocence back!" she starts to yell, clearly losing control of her emotions.
"You think I don't know that?" I calmly respond, "Josie, remember when we first met and I told you I was an ex-homicidal maniac?" I wait for her to nod. Then, I continue, "I wasn't lying then, and I'm not lying now. You know I'm not human. You know I've come from somewhere.. elsewhere in the universe. What you don't know is that by the age of five I was a trained killer. Don't believe me? Remember how I shot myself, Josie? Remember how it didn't do a damn thing? Remember, just now, how I sunk my fingers into a slab of concrete without even noticing? I know what it's like to not be innocent. It's a horrible feeling that can eat you up. But, you're wrong. This is a problem, and it can be solved. Not by me, but you. I'm just here as back-up. When you decide you want to begin feeling better about yourself, that's when we can actually get started."
After a few, tense seconds, she shoots back, "What do you want me to say?"
"What do I want you to say? I don't want you to say anything unless it's something you want to say," I reply.
"So, what now?" she says bitterly. She must be really pissed at me right now.
"Now? Well, are you ready to quit moping around and move on with your life?"
"Yes!"
"Good. Then, you decide what you want to do about your dad."
She screams suddenly, "I WANT HIM FUCKING DEAD!"
Whoa! Lots of anger inside of her! She's so self-conscious she must never let it out. Anger like that is dangerous, and it doesn't suit her at all. Anger like that could actually fuel her into killing her dad, and she doesn't need to go to prison.
"Josie, there'll be no killing going on," I sternly hiss, ignoring all onlookers, "If you do that, you'll only succeed in getting yourself thrown into a shit-hole of a correctional facility. Besides, he probably would have no idea why you're killing him anyways. I know how whack-jobs like him think. I was.. raised by one. We're going to have to hit him where it hurts, then you make him remember what he's done, then you make him regret it. And if the fucking pig doesn't apologize, I'll make him apologize. And if he doesn't mean it.. then, I'll kill him. If you want. But not you, Josie. You can watch, but you can't do it."
"Why not?"
"Because you haven't killed anyone before, and I think you'll find out that once you do, it isn't so great."
No matter how angry you are or how much they deserve it, I add to myself silently.
---
A/N: Here's an answer to a review I've received:
Renzuite asks, "So Videl kept her name Satan?"
Yes. I think Videl would keep her last name in marriage because it has a greater impact than "Son". Everyone already knows her as Videl Satan. I think that name is important to her, and I think she would keep it.