Alright chapter two is up! Enjoy! (PLEASE review).
Bulma woke up. Her clothes were damp with dew from the grass. Something had caused her to wake up but at the moment she couldn't put her finger on it.
She looked down and flinched. The bench was still sitting uncomfortably on her stomach. Which brought her back to the question of why she was alive; why hadn't that bench crushed her to a pulp like it had to her-.
Her mother and father were gone. Bulma didn't dare turn around to face her mother's dead purple face that she was sure would still be sitting there. Why hadn't Goku come? She yelled loud enough for him to hear her, she was sure of it…
What if Goku had died too? Bulma don't think that way! She ordered herself. Ok. Let's think what I know… Bulma tried to keep a cool head. I know that both my parents are gone and can't help me. This bench slammed into me but I'm not dead. I need to get out from underneath it but I can't.
Bulma kept thinking, trying to use logic but it got her nowhere. Bulma pounded her fists on the ground in frustration and let out a scream. It didn't matter. Everyone around here couldn't hear her where they were anyway.
Bulma looked at her elbow and saw blood running down. Fresh blood. Not like the brown crust on the bench that was her mother's fresh blood hours ago. Her elbow didn't hurt. Not a tiny bit.
Suddenly something clicked. Her hair tie! She had programmed it to be sort of like a body shield. It would protect the wearer from feeling most pain and even prevent some injuries. As long as Bulma kept her hair tie in she would be fine!
Bulma instantly reached her hands up to tighten her elastic. That bench should have killed her. If all it left was a sick bruise-like feeling then it must hurt like hell. If she took her hair down the bench wounds would catch up to her and kill her.
Feeling slightly braver Bulma wiggled around trying to get out from under it. She turned and was forced to face her mother. Her poor sweet mother's cheeks had already sunken as though she were trying to suck them in. Her eyes were shut in a peaceful sleep and blood ran down her chin.
Bulma licked her fingertips and wiped away the dried blood. Her blonde hair lay in a mess so Bulma ran her fingers through it and tried neatening it up a bit.
Once Bulma felt she paid her respect for her mother she continued to twist and turn. She managed to slide one leg out from under the bench scraping it pretty bad.
All that was left was just one leg left under there. Bulma pulled carefully, knowing what didn't hurt now would be a lot worse later because at one point she would have to take her hair down.
Bulma now freed did a jog of happiness even though nothing at the moment really seemed happy. I have to get out of here… Something was coming. Bulma knew it. It's the feeling kind of like before it rains when everything is silent and you can only see the undersides of tree leaves.
Before she knew it she was running. Running from what? She had no idea! Then she was sprinting. Loud footsteps followed behind her. Bulma screamed. Surely someone must have heard her! Please!
Bulma's white sneakers were covered with her blood that traveled in streams down her scraped leg. Great! She thought, that'll take forever to scrub off!
Bulma sucked in a breath preparing to let out another scream when she was forced to let it out. A net. Someone had captured her with a net.
She looked behind her and saw a man with weird bluish-green skin holding a gun that was smoking at the end. This man Bulma thought absently was fairly handsome.
His hair was pulled back in a dark green braid and his amber colored eyes glared at her. This man had a partner; he was more of just a pink blob than anything else. Bulma already knew she hated him.
Bulma screamed as the men approached her.
"Will you shut it!" The pink blob demanded. The blue skinned man grabbed part of the net and began dragging her.
"Why are you doing this!" Bulma demanded shrieking as tears betrayed her and fell down her cheeks.
"Boss says we need to blow up the cities and capture the survivors; I guess that makes you a survivor, unless you want us to kill you now." The blue skinned man responded.
Bulma thought about it, dying seemed tempting right now but if she thought about it, she still had some will to live. That was enough for her. Bulma shut her mouth and stifled her cries.
Bulma's fingernails broke along some gravel and blood began to bead there. Great more blood! Bulma grew a sudden hate for the color red.
She thought about what those two men-aliens had said: boss? If they had a boss, someone was in charge of this. Someone was to blame for her suffering.
Bulma gained some courage and then spoke up so the two of these strange men could hear her.
"Who's your boss?" Bulma asked trying to sound nonchalant. The pink one began speaking,
"Lord Fri-" And then he was cut off by the blue one.
"Have you lost your mind, Dodoria! Telling prisoners about the boss? Stupid! That's all that is! Now shut up!"
"Don't boss me around pretty-boy!" The one called Dodoria shouted.
They dragged me through trees, puddles and sand so I was soon covered with filth. Dodoria and his partner talked amongst themselves. Whenever the subject reached close to talking about their boss they would pause and then start off about something totally different.
I could tell we were close to our destination when their pace picked up. I raised my head and as a result I got a faceful of tree branch. The branch left a minor cut on my forehead but I knew it would bleed a lot.
God, I'm going to die of blood loss if I keep this up, Bulma thought to herself as blood dripped down her nose.
Ahead was a spaceship. It was a model Bulma had never seen before. Her father worked with spaceships and this was a very modern version. Bulma suddenly forgot she was being captured and studied the ship.
This ship in particular had spiderlike legs sticking out to support it. It had a purple top and huge giga-thrusters on the bottom. For a moment Bulma was in complete awe at the engineering of the ship. She was in awe until well… they tried to get her to go in it.
A feminine voice came over the intercom instructing them to carry me to some sort of cell. Bulma did everything in her power to stop but these guys were tough. They took her down many floors of the ship until they reached a floor that was both damp and cold.
She saw a small cell on that floor. Apparently they weren't expecting that many survivors. Then another thought hit Bulma, what if they were expecting a lot of survivors? Either way no one was in there now.
The blue skinned alien ripped open her net and dumped her on the cement floor of the cell. She heard the squeal of a metal door shutting and knew that she was locked in.
Bulma got the odd feeling she was being watched.
She looked over her injuries. They were pretty bad, and bloody. Bulma ripped of a piece of her shirt and wrapped it around her leg. That was where she was bleeding the worst.
There was a sink and Bulma prayed for running water. She turned the knob and fairly clean looking tap water came out. She ripped off a second piece of her shirt and wet it down in the water.
Bulma gently began to wash her face. Blood stained the light fabric but she didn't care. She was just happy to get that blood off her.
Bulma's stomach still throbbed unhappily as though that metal bench was still sitting on top of her and she knew the damage done was bad.
Bulma then realized she was thirsty but didn't dare drink the tap water. It looked clean but in a place like this she couldn't really trust anything.
She couldn't trust anything or anyone…
Poor Bulma… I was more inspired by this chapter than the last one so I hope its better! Please review!