I'm not worthy I'm sorry FORGIVE MEEEEEEE!!!
Ok there you had it an apology. Be grateful J
School, always a cramper in things. Bulma was in the plaid skirt. The white shirt and the gray sweater. She didn't like it one bit, for kami's sake her skirt reached her knees. What was with that? Dialing the combination to her locker she stuffed a few spare notebooks in and other supplies into it. She didn't expect to be interested in what they had to teach her anyway. Glancing at her little paper schedule, all honor classes she was pleased to note, she headed in the direction of her first class. Current world affairs. 'Wonder if the martial arts tournament is included in that class, that would be a fun report. I can just see my title now. How an idiot became the strongest man...' She smiled secretly knowing she didn't mean anything at the insult.
Stepping into the room she was pleased to note that the class had not yet begun. Moving to the front desk she waited silently for the teacher to look up from his work and acknowledge her. "Miss Briefs." He clipped, not looking up and not asking.
"Yes Sir that would be me."
"Stand at the front of the class, you will introduce yourself then I'll find you a place to sit." Nodding she stood where directed and acted nonchalant at the sudden attention she was being brought to. When the bell rang she was meeting the curious stares of many students, a few condescending an others lustful. 'Ah to be among the hormones again. Somebody shoot me.'
"Introduce yourself and tell us your life story." She looked disbelieving at her teacher. He then smiled kindly at her. "We're going to practice an interview on you, I'll give you credit for being our victim." She smiled in understanding and shook her head.
"Alright here I go. My name is Bulma I was adopted by the Briefs at age fifteen, I'm seventeen now. I was born in the back of an apartment in the Rift distract." She waited for the gasps to finish after having mentioned her birth in the most deadly section of the city. "My biological father was a pimp and my mother one of his girls. I was taken from where I lived when I was four by a pair of prostitutes who raised me alongside their daughter. They and she taught me how to read and count and my sister and I would often spend our days and just as often nights in the library. Social services eventually found me and then there were my new parents the Briefs. The rest as they say is history. To make a long story short I went off adventuring and made some great friends, one was just married not long ago and is due any week now." She grinned at the shocked faces, and the appalled ones.
"Were you a prostitute?" One blond, the stereotypical blond cheerleader by appearance, asked.
"No I was not." Bulma replied steadily.
"Really?" She didn't sound as if she believed her.
"Just because of who I was raised by and around does not mean I will follow in their footsteps. I love those two women very much, they taught me what it was like to be cared for with no expectations. I owe them my life and so much more. How they made their living is not something I hold against them." One boy raised his hand and she nodded.
"What was it like growing up in such a rough area."
"You glaze the area by such a meek term. I grew up around murderers, rapist, kidnappers, and pedophiles. I learned the dirtiest forms of fighting and I learned them quick. In an average month I would see five cold bodies, three shootings, and maybe a kidnapping. That depended on how the gang wars were going, I hid at home or hopped buses to the library. Either way I stayed out of sight as much as possible and made sure to blend in when I did leave the flat."
"You ever killed someone." Many gasped at the question and a few made smart remarks. Bulma gave a wry smile.
"Nearly a time or two, they well deserved what I gave to them. Did I ever go looking for a fight? Only when antagonized or when I went to the bars to fight for cash. I said I wasn't a hooker, I didn't say I didn't earn money to help out."
"What was it like living with two prostitutes and their kid."
"I was in charge of the budget by age eight, my older sister was able to get anything we needed but I rationed out the money and made sure the bills were paid, or which bills were paid when things got bad."
"What did your sister do?" Bulma grinned.
"She was a hacker? She works for a company to test the defenses against such crimes now." 'Or at least she will when she wakes up.' She thought, not quite being able to shake the mental image of her friend in a drugged sleep from her mind.
"You ever shot a gun?" This came from a shy looking brunette, she wore large glasses and for some reason Bulma warmed to her.
"I practically teethed on a revolver. I'm a crack shot and sent many would be intruders running, minus a finger or so. Pickpockets were quick to tell their protégés to stay away from me…and my family."
"What of your father Bulma, your birth one." This came from her teacher, who like the class was giving his full attention to her.
"In jail for assault, he tried to kill me." Bulma shrugged at the gasps, she could just tell that the rumors were going to be about her for a very long time.
"I think that's enough Bulma." Mr. Regfield muttered. Take a seat next to Cally. Cally would you raise your hand?" The brown haired girl with glasses raised a tentative hand. Bulma smiled beautifully and took her seat. Some scooted away from her while others came closer. All in all not a bad way to start her day. Only would the rest of her day be like this?
Took me long enough I know. I dedicate this to the lovely writer of the email I received the other day. You know who you are. Umm what else. Oh ya. I know I promised bloodshed but you'll just have to wait. What do you all think of a certain prince coming to the school???
Mmmmhhhh?
~BUM~