Okay people, I know it's hard, but you gotta review, because I won't know what I'm doing wrong if you don't. I have a basic plot line already, but I'd appreciate some advice on some technical details here.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own DBZ. I DO own most of the characters in this story. In fact, the only characters I don't own won't come in until later. DO NOT TAKE MY CHARACTERS OR ELSE!!!! Though I didn't include a disclaimer in the first chapter, I did mean to and, of course, I didn't own it then either.
Now, on to the story...
Chapter 2: School and Training:
Mia fumed about things as she flew to school, wondering why her mother always ranted about her not being able to become a Super Saiyan. *It's not like I'll ever need it!* she thought, *There's nothing threatening Earth at all, and hasn't been for years and years! The last time something came to Earth was when my great-great grandfather was alive, and that was a century ago! More than that! There will probably never be another threat because everyone knows not to mess with earth since Goku's time. It's so stupid to train for something I'll never use, especially when it takes up all my time for other stuff! I have no friends because Mom makes me train all the time. I have no time for friends. I don't understand what makes Mom tick. It's like she thinks the only thing in life is training! It's so stupid! I hate it!! My life is the pits! It sucks!!* she thought as she touched down on the roof of the school building. She walked to the door and kicked it open and stumped angrily down the stairs to her locker. She ripped it open and seized her schoolbooks, stuffed them in her bag, and slammed the locker closed again. The crowds of people in the hall stopped whatever they were doing and stared at Mia as she stumped down the hall in fear and shock, wondering if she'd just grab someone randomly and do the same to them. She stopped in her tracks when she found everyone staring and felt her blood boil. She threw down her books and yelled, "WILL YOU ALL QUIT STARING AT ME?! YOU'RE GETTING ON MY NERVES!!"
Immediately, everyone turned around in terror. Mia snatched her books from the floor and continued to storm down the hall to her classroom. Only when she slammed the door to the room did the people in the halls relax and continue what they were doing before shaking with relief.
Mia took her seat in the class room and fumed as people filed in randomly. Math was her least favorite subject and she unfortunately had the detested class first thing in the day. Not to mention that, today of all days, she had a test...one she hadn't studied for because of training. And of course, it would count quite a lot towards her grade, one third, in fact.
The teacher, Mrs. Kapal, handed out the tests, face down, gave the directions for the test, and told the class to begin. Mia turned her paper over and groaned, and, putting her anger in the back of her head to be thought about later, she tried to remember what she had listened to in class. That wasn't very much, because she tended to tune the lessons out and didn't usually do homework. She struggled to do the problems, knowing she would never get most of them right, until the end of class.
She praised the bell when it rung for cutting off the torture of the test, and turned in her paper hastily, then dashed to the door and to her next class, thinking about the test and berating herself for not studying.
She walked into her History class, and her worries about the test immediately dissipated. She sat down in her seat and looked dully at the teacher in the front of the class. She didn't hate this class. She just thought that the teacher was the most boring person in the world. He lectured for what seemed like hours in a low, monotone voice of times almost no one cared about. Many students went to sleep in his class, knowing that every word he said came from the book and his lesson format never changed. Mia was sometimes one of them, but not today. Today, she pulled out her journal of drawings and diary entries--a jumbled mess of papers stuffed into a three ring binder in absolutely no order at all--and began to vent her newly remembered feelings of anger, knowing that if she wrote it down, she'd either feel better for putting it into words, or angrier at her mother, and she didn't particularly care which. Soon she had written three pages in her large, messy scrawl about how she felt. And that was just the beginning of her rant. She began to diverge from her original anger to anger and frustration she had been hiding and building on for years, never having voiced them as she was now. By the end of class, she had six pages of violent feelings written out on the front and back of each page. She felt angrier and angrier, fuming down the hall to her next class.
By lunch time, she was touchy and snapped at anyone who made her even slightly annoyed. She even mouthed off at a teacher who accidentally bumped into her as she passed. The teacher got angry and sent her to the Principal's office for disrespect. This caused her to yell at the teacher and kick her chair in frustration. The teacher gave her even more reasons to go to the Principal's and finally to take Mia's ear after even more violence and drag her there herself. Mia was not happy about this treatment and freed herself from her jailer's grip, saying she could make it there herself, she did not need help. The teacher escorted her to the Principal's office and sat her down in the waiting room.
When the principal allowed her out of his office, she had been given a week's suspension and three day's detention after. She was sent home for the rest of the day.
*Why does everyone give me such a damn hard time? I mean, it's not like I did anything that bad. I just kicked a stupid chair. What's everyone's problem?* she fumed as she flew home. *Well at least Mom'll be happy that we get more time to train. Humph. I wish she'd let up some. She pushes me so hard that I miss important things, like studying. Stupid test...*
She got home and heard sounds of training from the Gravity Room located under the house. She also heard the *tapklacktaktak* of her father's typing. She sighed. She'd be an idiot to try to interrupt either of them right now. She sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out her homework. *I might as well do it now, so that I don't have to worry about it when Mom decides to make me train.* She sighed again and pulled out her History book. She put her head on her arms so that her face was mere inches from the book and started to read.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own DBZ. I DO own most of the characters in this story. In fact, the only characters I don't own won't come in until later. DO NOT TAKE MY CHARACTERS OR ELSE!!!! Though I didn't include a disclaimer in the first chapter, I did mean to and, of course, I didn't own it then either.
Now, on to the story...
Chapter 2: School and Training:
Mia fumed about things as she flew to school, wondering why her mother always ranted about her not being able to become a Super Saiyan. *It's not like I'll ever need it!* she thought, *There's nothing threatening Earth at all, and hasn't been for years and years! The last time something came to Earth was when my great-great grandfather was alive, and that was a century ago! More than that! There will probably never be another threat because everyone knows not to mess with earth since Goku's time. It's so stupid to train for something I'll never use, especially when it takes up all my time for other stuff! I have no friends because Mom makes me train all the time. I have no time for friends. I don't understand what makes Mom tick. It's like she thinks the only thing in life is training! It's so stupid! I hate it!! My life is the pits! It sucks!!* she thought as she touched down on the roof of the school building. She walked to the door and kicked it open and stumped angrily down the stairs to her locker. She ripped it open and seized her schoolbooks, stuffed them in her bag, and slammed the locker closed again. The crowds of people in the hall stopped whatever they were doing and stared at Mia as she stumped down the hall in fear and shock, wondering if she'd just grab someone randomly and do the same to them. She stopped in her tracks when she found everyone staring and felt her blood boil. She threw down her books and yelled, "WILL YOU ALL QUIT STARING AT ME?! YOU'RE GETTING ON MY NERVES!!"
Immediately, everyone turned around in terror. Mia snatched her books from the floor and continued to storm down the hall to her classroom. Only when she slammed the door to the room did the people in the halls relax and continue what they were doing before shaking with relief.
Mia took her seat in the class room and fumed as people filed in randomly. Math was her least favorite subject and she unfortunately had the detested class first thing in the day. Not to mention that, today of all days, she had a test...one she hadn't studied for because of training. And of course, it would count quite a lot towards her grade, one third, in fact.
The teacher, Mrs. Kapal, handed out the tests, face down, gave the directions for the test, and told the class to begin. Mia turned her paper over and groaned, and, putting her anger in the back of her head to be thought about later, she tried to remember what she had listened to in class. That wasn't very much, because she tended to tune the lessons out and didn't usually do homework. She struggled to do the problems, knowing she would never get most of them right, until the end of class.
She praised the bell when it rung for cutting off the torture of the test, and turned in her paper hastily, then dashed to the door and to her next class, thinking about the test and berating herself for not studying.
She walked into her History class, and her worries about the test immediately dissipated. She sat down in her seat and looked dully at the teacher in the front of the class. She didn't hate this class. She just thought that the teacher was the most boring person in the world. He lectured for what seemed like hours in a low, monotone voice of times almost no one cared about. Many students went to sleep in his class, knowing that every word he said came from the book and his lesson format never changed. Mia was sometimes one of them, but not today. Today, she pulled out her journal of drawings and diary entries--a jumbled mess of papers stuffed into a three ring binder in absolutely no order at all--and began to vent her newly remembered feelings of anger, knowing that if she wrote it down, she'd either feel better for putting it into words, or angrier at her mother, and she didn't particularly care which. Soon she had written three pages in her large, messy scrawl about how she felt. And that was just the beginning of her rant. She began to diverge from her original anger to anger and frustration she had been hiding and building on for years, never having voiced them as she was now. By the end of class, she had six pages of violent feelings written out on the front and back of each page. She felt angrier and angrier, fuming down the hall to her next class.
By lunch time, she was touchy and snapped at anyone who made her even slightly annoyed. She even mouthed off at a teacher who accidentally bumped into her as she passed. The teacher got angry and sent her to the Principal's office for disrespect. This caused her to yell at the teacher and kick her chair in frustration. The teacher gave her even more reasons to go to the Principal's and finally to take Mia's ear after even more violence and drag her there herself. Mia was not happy about this treatment and freed herself from her jailer's grip, saying she could make it there herself, she did not need help. The teacher escorted her to the Principal's office and sat her down in the waiting room.
When the principal allowed her out of his office, she had been given a week's suspension and three day's detention after. She was sent home for the rest of the day.
*Why does everyone give me such a damn hard time? I mean, it's not like I did anything that bad. I just kicked a stupid chair. What's everyone's problem?* she fumed as she flew home. *Well at least Mom'll be happy that we get more time to train. Humph. I wish she'd let up some. She pushes me so hard that I miss important things, like studying. Stupid test...*
She got home and heard sounds of training from the Gravity Room located under the house. She also heard the *tapklacktaktak* of her father's typing. She sighed. She'd be an idiot to try to interrupt either of them right now. She sat down at the kitchen table and pulled out her homework. *I might as well do it now, so that I don't have to worry about it when Mom decides to make me train.* She sighed again and pulled out her History book. She put her head on her arms so that her face was mere inches from the book and started to read.