Strawberrychan: hey guys guess who's back!

Summary: Basically this story is about a young Bulma who is abused at first...before meeting a teenager who will change her life dramatically..Later on Vegeta of course comes into the plot..along with Frieza...you'll see how it goes..)

Chapter One

A boy with ebony orbs locked eyes with blue. He smiled goofily, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. The girl with the deep blue eyes clenched her fists angrily, glaring as hard as an eight year old can muster. A loud screech was heard, making the one year older boy stop grinning; the other girl beside them sweatdropped.

"GOKU SON! YOU ATE ALL OF MY MUFFINS! THAT WAS FOR MY MOMMY AND DADDY, YOU MEANIE!"

"..well...uh.." the boy known as Goku gulped, "sorry, Bulma, but they looked so delicious..I had no idea..honest"

Bulma stuck out her lip, making the saddest face that would melt the hearts of just about anyone. Her blue eyes got watery, and she took in a big sniff. Then, she stood calmly after a moment, but in a little bit of a gloomy mood.

"It's okay," Bulma concluded softly, and added a bit sadly, "My mommy and daddy are coming back late tomorrow from a business trip..I haven't seen them in months..I hardly ever see them. I jus' wanted it to be special. But I'll jus make another batch jus' as special!"

"And we'll help you out!" the other girl spoke up.

"Thanks, Chi!" she grinned.

"Maybe Mr. K can help out too," Goku piped in, "He made some pretty good brownies yesterday.."

Mr. K was actually Joe Kileman, Bulma's middle-aged caretaker when her parents were gone, which was basically all the time. He had a son named Kyle, who was much older than themselves; he was about 15.

"And Kyle too!" ChiChi piped in dreamily; she had a big crush on him, not really minding the age difference.

Bulma put on a disgusted face, "Ew not Kyle. I don't like him."

"You don't?" Chi blinked, confused, "why not? He's just so...cute," she giggled.

Bulma scowled, "Because I just don't. Geez I don't have to like everyone."

ChiChi frowned, but didn't say anything else.

"Look a squirrel!" Goku said randomly, jumping up and down.

Bulma laughed. "Go chase it, Goku!"

It was getting late in the afternoon when Goku and ChiChi both had to leave. After their reluctant goodbyes to each other, the three best friends departed. Bulma went back inside, following Mr. K around. Mr. K did not mind at all, being used to this, and he rather enjoyed the company anyways.

"So, Bulma how did you get that tail of yours?" Mr. K asked curiously. He had wondered so many times before, but he had never really bothered to ask.

Bulma blinked, "I thought 'avin tails was common, Mr. K. Goku has a tail."

She moved her brown tail back and forth, before snatching it between her fingers, feeling the softness. Mr. K just shrugged, it was really none of his business who had a tail, who didn't. Although it was rather odd. Mr. K's thoughts were interrupted by a few loud knocks at the door.

"Oh, Bulma, I forgot..but Kyle is going to babysit you tonight. I'm going on a date with Kayla," Mr. K said.

"W-what? But Mr. K I'm gonna miss youu," Bulma whined, "Can't you go on a date tomorrow?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, honey," he kneeled down, eye level with her with a warm look on his face, "But I'm sure you'll be fine. Kyle will take good care of you. Just make sure that kid doesn't throw any wild parties; although I'm sure he won't. He's a good kid. Straight A student and best athlete the school's ever had. I'm proud of him."

"Okay," Bulma forced a smile.

Mr. K opened the door, revealing a 5'6 teenager with spiky, dark brown hair and cool green eyes. He was about average built, and pretty attractive for his age. Bulma frowned, not liking him. He came in, ruffled her hair affectionately, (which made her scowl), and gave her a small wink, saying a friendly, "Hey, kid."

"Hi yourself," she said, crossing her arms over her chest, frowning.

"Well, you two enjoy yourselves, I'll be back tomorrow morning," Mr. K said.

When Mr. K left, Kyle's 'warm' exterior changed.

"What is there to do around here, brat?" Kyle asked.

Bulma looked at him, uncertaintly. "Uhm, there's some video games in the game room...then there's the tv...and uhh...I dunno," she looked down, as if there was something interesting on the floor.

She looked back up to see him looking at her, amused.

"What're you looking at," she snapped; then she got a surprised look on her face like she hadn't meant to say that, "uhh..."

"Watch your mouth. I'm watchin' you, and you can't speak to me like that."

"Hn."

She turned and was about to walk away, when something slammed into her back, knocking her to the floor. She was too surprised to even make a small cry beforehand. She winced, getting back up quickly and glaring at him, eyes about to water.

"What was that for?" she said, her voice cracking in the middle of her sentence.

"For being a brat. Ugh I hate little kids," he said, his words laced with disgust.

"Yeah, well I hate kids like you-"

She didn't have time to block the punch as it struck her cheek; she stumbled but didn't fall.

"Stop it," she whispered helplessly.

"I'm inviting some friends over, and if you tell my father..then no doubt I will do the same thing last time I came to babysit you," Kyle threatened.

She walked up to him, kicking him in the shins. He shrieked in pain, falling to the floor.

"You little fucker!" he yelled, "I don't know how you have such a kick for a little kid...god...that hurt."

She stuck out her tongue childishly and gave a "nyah nyah" before running off.

She ran straight to her room, slamming the door shut, locking it. She started shaking, thinking about the last time he had babysat her. It had been hell. She closed her eyes in thought. She hadn't done anything wrong, had she? She could not really recall what had happened before certain events had occured. Tears brimmed at her eyes again, threatening to overtake her emotions. She wasn't at an age to fully understand it, but she knew one thing. It had been wrong. And she did not want that to happen again. She opened her eyes, surveying her room. The room was fairly large and luxurious for just an eight year old, but considering she was the daughter of one of the wealthiest people on planet Earth, it was normal for her.

Two loud knocks made her uneasy. The boy behind the door cleared his throat.

"I know you're in there, Bulma...Look...I'm sorry..it was wrong of me to slap you..I'm just under a lot of stress right now," Kyle said sadly, sighing dramatically.

"Just go away," Bulma mumbled, but loud enough for him to hear. She suddenly felt sorry for him, but pushed it aside. If this was a trick, she was not going to fall for it.

"Open the door, sweetie," he said in a sickly sweet tone.

"No."

"Please?"

"NO."

"Open the damn door, bitch! Kami!" he yelled, punching the door.

Bulma started to get scared again.

"Whaddya want?" she demanded, scared.

"I don't want you telling my dad some people are coming over, all right?" Kyle said, his voice sharp, "They'll probably be over in about ten minutes."

"And what if I do?" she challenged.

"What do you think?" he said, his tone a little lower, meaner.

"Fine. I won't tell," she gave in.

The sound of footsteps retreating rang bells in her ears, and she signed in relief. Bulma went to her window, opening it and breathing in the cool, summer fresh air. She pulled up a chair, just sitting and gazing longfully out the window. She wasn't sure how long she was gazing out the window, and before she knew it she rested her head in between her arms on the window sill, and fell asleep.

Loud music pounded into her ears, and she woke up. She rubbed her eyes, wondering what time it was. The clock read 11:15, an hour and a half she had been asleep then. She yawned, rubbing her eyes. The moon was bright tonight, casting shadows on the trees below her window. She wondered how she had fallen asleep in such a position. She stood up, and walked over to her door.

Bulma unlocked her door, curiously opening it and looking both ways before she stepped out. She wonderd for a moment how music could be so loud. The music was definitely rap, and she could have sworn the loudness of the music could have literally shaken this side of Capsule Corporation. No one was in the hallway, and she hoped no one was upstairs. Bulma treaded softly down the hallway, very curious about what was all the commotion downstairs. She went to the stairs, and got on her small knees, peering downstairs. The majority of the teenager were in the living room; the activites she saw included drugs, making out, drinking, smoking, and the TV was on although no one seemed to be paying attention to it. She wondered even why the TV would be on if the music drowned out the sound.

Bulma squinted her eyes, trying to find the cause of all of this. She found him, sitting in a chair, drinking alcohol like there was no tomorrow. She frowned, not liking all of the people. From what she gathered, she saw about 20 people just in the living room. No one seemed to notice she was peering downstairs. She realized her mouth was parched. She thought about the nice, cool pepsi in the fridge. It's not like she wasn't allowed to go downstairs in her own house, right? As long as those dumb teenagers didn't bother her..

Concluding that she should go to the kitchen, she walked down the stairs, turning left into the kitchen. Her kitchen was huge, and gorgeous. Bulma noticed one person in the kitchen; some teenager with black hair. He stared at her as she walked into the kitchen, but she ignored him. She took out a cup and got herself what she came to get. Pepsi. After filling her cup with the sufficient amount, she hopped up onto a chair, and finally looked at the black-headed kid. There was a strange silence before it was broken.

"Hey, kid. Ain't that stuff gonna keep you up?" he spoke up.

"No," Bulma replied, "At least I don't think so..."

"So, you the Briefs girl, eh?" he asked, "Nice place you got."

"Yeah. What's your name?" she sipped her pepsi.

"Mark."

Mark was definetly an attractive young man. He was thin, but not too thin, and he wore girl pants, along with black converse shoes, and a tight brown jacket. He was what you could call 'emo.' His black hair reached his ear, and it was sort of thick, getting into his eyes at times. Bulma yawned, wondering why he wasn't with most of the others in the other room.

"So, what're you doing over here?" she wondered aloud.

He shrugged, "Eh, I'm tired of those idiots in there. I thought I'd take a little break from 'em. Hm, I'd watch out for your big babysitter, Kyle. He isn't a very nice one."

"Yeah, I know," she said quietly, looking away.

"I don't like him either," he narrowed his eyes at the inatimate object he was staring at

There was a pause. She smiled for a moment, looking up at him, "Yaknow, you're pretty cool."

"You're not bad yourself, kid," he nodded approvingly at her.

"Eh, I'm gonna step outside. I have one major headache," he said.

And with about half a dozen steps to the kitchen door, and a swish of the door, he was out. Bulma finished her pepsi, satisfied. She was about to leave when a voice stopped her. She winced, cursing under her breath.

"What do you think you're doing, little brat?" a voice seethed.

"I was thirsty, gonna harass me for wanting some pepsi?" she stared at Kyle inquiringly while he stood at the doorway.

"You need to ssstop being a ssmartass," he slurred, obviously drunk.

"Okay," she said indifferently, not really paying attention to him, "Whatever I'm going to bed. You better think about cleaning up this mess."

"I've already set the cleaning droids to clean up at 4...or was it 5am.."

She walked past him, feeling his eyes pore into her skin. She ignored him, walking up the steps. She felt his footsteps behind her, but she still ignored him, walking up to her room. She noticed the music had toned down a little, but was still as loud as ever. The footsteps still vibrated behind her. She gulped, wishing he'd go away. She scowled, turning around.

"Leave me alone."

He looked a mess, definetly disoriented, but dangerous as ever. Bulma again wasn't ready for a punch that was sent at her cheek. She was sent falling back a few feet away. She yelped, but she could hardly even hear herself, the music was overwhelming. She tried getting up, but he was there at an instant, grabbing her by her collar and slamming her into a wall.

"Yaknow, I'm tired of your little brattyness. I think I'm gonna teach you a lesson...again," he said drunkingly.

Her eyes widened in fear, she started kicking her legs wildly.

"Get OFF OF ME!" she yelled.

He threw her, and she ended up being thrown into her slightly open bedroom door, and slamming into her carpeted floors of her room. She scurried up, running to the farthest spot possible in her room. There was nothing she could do, no where to hide, no where to run. She was too weak to defend herself, she knew. She'd never done an ounce of fighting in her life, and here he was; one of the best athletes in his school, one of the strongest teenagers she thought she knew. She felt trapped. This somehow reminded her of the mean boys during school who smashed ants on the concrete sidewalk, while she watched angrily, telling them off for hurting defenseless creatures. She felt like an ant. Except there was no one telling this boy off.

She closed her eyes tightly, shaking. A moment later she felt a hand tilt her downward chin, upwards, and she opened her eyes to see herself staring straight into Kyle's. His pupils were big, and she gulped. He talked in a quiet, calm voice.

"If you do as I say, kid, then I won't beat you up, got it?"

She nodded, her heart beat racing wildly.

"And stop your crying," he scowled.

She blinked, just realizing salty tears were dripping down her cheeks. She wiped them away hurriedly. She glanced at the door. It was closed. But not locked. She looked at him, wondering what he was going to do next. He dropped down his pants, revealing his dick. He looked almost lazily at her.

"Suck it."

Minutes later she was standing back up, feeling disgusted, her mouth violated. She felt like she was about to puke. She about gagged from the taste in her mouth. Bulma tucked her hair behind her ears nervously. Maybe he'd leave now.

"Strip, brat. Lay on the bed. Spread your legs open, close your eyes and wait for the surprise," he laughed at his own words in amusement.

"N-n-no," she stammered.

His eyes turned cold, "Do it now, and if you do it struggling, it's gonna hurt even worse. Do you forget last time or something?"

She sniffed, yielding to him unwillingly. She layed on the bed, waiting, shutting her eyes tight. Thinking of nothing, hoping it would all go away soon where she could just be by herself. She felt the weight of Kyle crawl onto the bed, and she closed her eyes harder. Maybe it wouldn't hurt so bad this time..maybe...she broke off her thought as she felt his dick on her private, so close. She whimpered.

"Kyle, please, don't...please," she started crying.

"Shut up," he said.

Without another word, she was being thrusted into in a pattern, in, out, in, out. She screamed; it was the same as last time, except this time he hadn't really beaten her up as much, but it still felt as worse. Bulma subconsiously out of her pain, wrapped her small arms around his neck, pushing him closer and burying her head into his neck. She heard him moan and groan, and she felt sick to her stomach. She let go of him, trying to push him away, but she was too weak to even push him an inch. Why was she so weak? Why couldn't she be better? She stared at the ceiling, no longer screaming, no longer crying. She was numb from the pain. Numb from everything...

The morning sun landed on her features, and she opened her eyes, squinting. There was no more loud music, no more torture; just silence. So why did she still feel so horrible? She rubbed her eyes, walking to her bathroom, putting on the shower. She felt the nice, warm water, drench her skin. Kyle was probably passed out on the couch, about to wake up with a huge hangover and no memory of this ever happening. Last time he hadn't even been drunk or high though, just his own nature of evil. Bulma didn't understand why he did this to her; what had she done wrong? He always said she deserved it. But why? She had no idea what to feel, so she decided it was best she ignored everything, acted like it never existed right now. After all, her parents were coming back this evening, and she still had another batch of muffins to bake.

After her shower she walked downstairs, feeling a little bit better, but not by much. She ate her breakfast, still not seeing Kyle anywhere. She put her bowl in the sink, wondering when Mr. K would be back. Bulma was quite shocked when she saw the teenager she had talked to yesterday, walk in the kitchen door. She stared, confused. He gave her a small glance before walking past her, and into the living room. She followed him, not knowing what else to do.

The scene was strange, and she didn't know what to exactly do at first. The first thing she saw was Kyle, lounging on the couch, watching TV, not noticing them. Then, an object in Mark's hand which she recognized as a gun was shot off; the bullet clashing into Kyle's head, and the next thing she knew she saw Kyle collide with the floor in his own pool of blood. She looked at Mark, suddenly alarmed and afraid. Bulma eyed him cautiously, staring at his silver gun.

"W-what did you just do!" Bulma shouted, confused.

Mark gave her a smirk, leaning against the frame of the door.

"Let me reintroduce myself, Miss Briefs. I'm Mark Smayne, an assassin."

AN: wow! I bet you guys thought I died! I randomly thought up another story and I decided to post it...lol...hmmmm I haven't been on here in so long 3 please review guys )