"We don't develop courage by being happy every day. We develop it by surviving difficult times and challenging adversity." - Barbara De Angelis
"What're you doing to me?" I asked in a drowsy voice, staring up at the shadowed face.
"It will all become clear... very soon," the figure said as it reached a hand towards my face.
It was at that moment that I woke up from my sleep, shooting up to a sitting position, my heart racing out of control. I rolled over in a panic, tumbling to the floor in a heap of blankets. I hastily untangled myself from the silken restraints, but the second I pressed my palms to the hard surface in order to stand, a horrendous noise invaded my ears.
"What the hell is that?!" I loudly asked no one. It was as if thousands of tiny, shrill-voiced children were all trying to speak to me all at one time, and the sound was physically harmful to hear. I pushed myself to my knees and covered my ears in a fruitless attempt to stop the overwhelming noise. I clenched my eyes shut, dropped onto my side into the fetal position and cowered in utter terror.
Just when I was certain my head was fit to explode, I felt myself being lifted from the floor and the noise suddenly ceased and a voice faded in.
"Dammit Bulma, say something!"
I opened my eyes and found myself staring at a very familiar face. "Vegeta?" I frantically asked, actually hoping.
"What happened in here?" his tone almost sounded as if he were concerned.
I just stared blankly. "What?"
"Why were you screaming? And how did you wind up on the floor?"
"I was screaming?" I asked, confusedly.
"Yes," he said, impatient and irritated, gently placing me down on the soft bed. "Now what are you doing, woman?"
I turned my head and spotted a familiar piece of furniture before slowly peering around at my surroundings and realized my current location. I looked down and touched my hand over silk sheets. "This is my bedroom," I looked up at him, perplexed. "I'm back home?" I wondered aloud, slightly slurring my words.
Vegeta shook his head at this. "Yes," he sighed, giving me a look. "Where else were you expecting to be?"
I looked away in thought. Flashes of my latest recollection danced at the corner of my mind's eye, partially obscured by a haze of a headache brought on from whatever that was a minute ago.
I saw the blinding light, the figure, the jet going down, the brief moment at the park, and nothing else. I was trying to give my mind time to decipher these images, but I did not find that very possible at the moment. My brow furrowed in frustration at how my usually pictorial memory was now about as visual as Braille.
As I sorted through my thoughts, my hand unconsciously went up to rub at my left bicep. I winced at the sharp pain it suddenly caused. I looked down at my arm to see that it had been bandaged. "What the fuck?" I cursed, using my finger to touch the wrapping when my hand was grabbed.
"Don't tamper with it, you foolish woman," the Saiyan reluctantly scolded.
"What happened to my arm?" I asked him.
He released my right hand. "It's a burn," he said, simply.
I raised an eyebrow. "A burn?" flashes appeared before my eyes.
"Stop this! What're you doing?!"
"Waking you up,"
I shook my head to clear it of the thoughts.
"Yes, it's a burn," he answered.
"How?"
"You must have gotten it in the accident with the jet. Your father wrapped it up for you last night," he informed me of.
I nodded my head in understanding but was somewhat remembering it happening differently. I suddenly backtracked. "Wait a second. Did you just say last night?" I whipped to the side and stared out the window of the balcony. My eyes widened at the sight of daylight. I scrambled to pick up the digital clock from my nightstand. "It's almost ten a.m.!" I exclaimed, turning to stare at the man still standing at my bedside. "You guys shut off my alarm and allowed me to sleep almost half the day away," I angrily accused, attempting to get out of the bed, but was stopped by a light push from Vegeta.
"Sit down," he told me. "First off, no one touched that infernal thing. It was blaring noise for half an hour before I figured out how to stop it. I suppose your condition may have caused you to sleep so deeply that you didn't hear it. And second, your mother told us all not to disturb you,"
"Seriously?" I bit. I attempted to stand and was stopped again.
"You need to remain seated," he said, calmly.
I slapped his hands away with a scoff and he stepped aside with a shake of his head. I placed my feet on the floor and stood up, but my knees almost immediately buckled under my weight.
Vegeta caught me beneath the arms just in time and hoisted me back up. He placed me down on the bed once again. "I told you to remain seated,"
"What the hell is the matter with my legs? I know I haven't been asleep that long," I began stretching my limbs to increase the blood flow. "I have to get out of bed. What about Trunks? What about work?" as worried as I should have been by my current situation, it worried me more to think about those things going neglected, especially my precious bundle of joy.
"Your parents are taking care of it," I stared at him, silently urging him to elaborate. He sighed through his nose. "Your father is assisting your cousin with handling a few things concerning work, and your mother is with the boy,"
I quietly released a sigh of relief. At the very least he was good hands with his grandmother. Trunks had a daily routine that I wanted to keep up with as much as my schedule permitted, and I knew without a shadow of doubt that my mother would stick to it. It is times like this that I was grateful for the set of individuals that I had been fortunate enough to call my parents. Admittedly so, they could be a bothersome pair at times, which was most likely how most people felt about their parents majority of the time, but they always meant well. Due to their beliefs, the couple tended to approach certain situations with an almost inappropriate nonchalance, and that was something to take into account at the moment.
My mood suddenly soured. "Has anyone said anything to Trunks about me?" My parents could have easily told him the truth about where I was, in the condition that I had found myself in, or they may have lied and told him that I was busy with work, which, as far as I was concerned, was the worse to imagine. There had been many instances where I had been forced to cut our time together short due to my responsibilities after taking over the company, so I definitely didn't want him to think that this was one those cases.
"Not that I'm aware of,"
"Where does he think I was this morning the reason I didn't wake him up?"
"I just told you that I didn't know," he impatiently spouted. "You will have to consult with your mother about that,"
I huffed air in frustration. "Well, where is he now?" I further inquired. He shrugged indignantly. I let out a sound similar to that of a growl. "God Dammit, Vegeta, you are never any help!" I snapped at him. I moved to stand once again, and he moved to stop me yet again, but I angrily slapped his hand away again. "Don't touch me,"
He scoffed at my anger. "Woman, will you stop being so damned dramatic and just sit down,"
"No. I am getting out of this bed and going to see my son and you are not going to stop me, got it?" I declared.
"Why? He's obviously fine where he is, so why the sudden urgency to see him?" he asked , roughly.
I narrowed my angry eyes at him. "I am his mother. He is my son. Of course I want to see him. And I don't need a reason or incentive to do it, as you so kindly put it. I'm not you," I said, pointedly. I stood up, with all the grace of a newborn fawn, and walked over to lean on the doorframe of my closet.
"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" he angrily asked from behind me.
"It means exactly what it sounds like," I glared back at him. "You're always pulling some kind of neglectful bullshit with him and I'm sick of it. At least one of us has to show some consistency when it comes to showing our child that we care about him," I spat. It was a low blow, and I knew this.
He took a couple of steps towards me and stopped. "Are you implying that I don't care for my own offspring?"
I stood up as straight as I could manage. "No. I'm saying that it's wrong for you to want to be his father only on occasion,"
"That's absurd. I've done no such thing," he rejected .
"Really?" I scoffed. "You're here for a few days in a row then gone for days or weeks at a time. You may think that he's too young to notice it but he does. And, if he's anything like me, he'll remember it," I threw in his face.
His face did not betray how he was feeling, but his eyes, however, were like windows that gave me a clear view of how he took my words. "I am there when it matters,"
"Yes, you are there when you feel as if your presence is needed, but the problem is that you really don't see what's so wrong about that," I could see where the conversation was heading, that one of us were bound to say something regrettable, but there was no snuffing out the fuse that had been lit. "You're there when it matters, yes, but that's it. You miss most of the other times with him,"
"I spend more than an adequate amount of time with him. I will not allow you spout lies about me," he calmly defended.
"Vegeta, you've spent more time with me in this fucking bedroom than you have with him! Period!" My anger was slowly becoming rage with every word that left his lips, and I wasn't entirely sure of why. The burn on my arm began to radiate as my blood ran hot. I took a calming breath to stop it. "Look, I'm not saying that you aren't a good father, but that's only a little more than half the time. You have to understand why it is we both can't be that way,"
He took a few steps closer to me in an obvious act of intimidation. As always, I was unfazed. "Are you trying to tell me that all of this is because I listened to your insufferable parents and tried to let their brat of a daughter get some rest? Because if it is, I'm regretful that I even tried," he bit back.
I snorted. "Oh, please, don't even start with that. We both know that you don't give a damn. The only reason you ever stuck around in the first place was because of what you knew I could give you. That's all we ever were, and you know it," I finally unleashed the one sentence that I kept firmly hidden under the guise of contentment, and the words tasted as bitter as they sounded coming from my mouth.
He stepped into my space, backing me against the wall, staring directly into my eyes. "Do you really believe that?" his voice was a low rasp.
I stood my ground and boldly stared back at black eyes. "Is there a reason I should think any differently?"
His glare wavered a bit before he corrected it. He leaned in close enough so that we were now breathing the same air. "I guess not," he said, barely above a whisper, and turned on his heels and walked away.
I knew that my statement had hurt him, but I couldn't seem to control my mouth. "What now, huh? Are you gonna run away and hide for few a months again?" My emotions were flaring and I was doing nothing to stop it. "Go ahead, you'll just be proving my point for me,"
He halted his movement but did not look back. "I'll be downstairs," he simply shared before continuing on his way.
The sound of his fleeting footsteps gave the room a melancholic tone that was threatening to break my resolve. The second his steps could no longer be heard, I stumbled over to my nightstand and picked up the clock. Without any hesitation, the normally calm and composed woman I was lost it and just launched the device at the door he just went out of. Shattered glass and small pieces of plastic and internal parts littered the floor.
Arm pulsating in an almost audible fashion, my legs gave out and I allowed myself to crumble to the floor beside the bed. As tears streamed down my cheeks, I pulled my legs to my chest and proceeded to have a silent, emotional meltdown. "What is wrong me?" I whimpered to no one at all.
{A Few Moments Prior}
I was leaning against the wall with my arms folded across my chest and my head down and eyes on the floor, beside the door to the room that was housing Bulma. I had been stationed in this particular spot for an uncertain amount of time, and I was equally uncertain as to why. I never really knew why it was I did those sort of things when it came to the woman.
Due to the woman's absolutely inconvenient accident, I got even less sleep than usual.
Upon finding her in the park, I found it extremely odd that I hadn't been able to initially sense her location from the very beginning, and when I did find her I could barely sense her. Had I not been holding her in my arms, I would have doubted her very presence. Had she not woken up and uttered my name, I would have actually believed her to be dying where I stood holding her.
Maybe that was the reason I had spent my valuable time watching over her. I was simply curious about the state in which she was in. Her life had been wavering all night, and I just wanted to be sure that it wasn't as serious as my thoughts were allowing me to believe.
It was definitely unrelated to me being worried.
My thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Bulma's father coming my way.
"Oh, I had no idea that you were still here, my boy," was how the mustachioed man announced himself. I looked up to see him now standing beside me. He was standing in his usual posture; hands clasp behind his back with a slight hunch. "Why don't you accompany me downstairs for a snack," he offered.
I discretely glanced at the door before answering. "I'm fine," I rejected.
He gave a smile, which was partially obscured by his well-kempt facial hair. "Nonsense my boy, I insist you tag along-"
"I'm not hungry," I calmly interrupted . "Now, can you please leave me be?" I wasn't in any way annoyed with the man, he was simply being his usual pushy self, I just really wasn't all that interested in moving from my spot.
"Vegeta, she will be fine..." he started.
"That's not what this is-" I attempted to deny, but was interrupted when the man continued.
"She is soundly asleep in her own bed in her own home, filled with people who obviously care about her wellbeing," the cursed man read correctly. It was not lost on me how pointedly he said that last line. He was as astute as his daughter. "I think it does us all some good to take a break from our worries every now and again,"
This was one those many things that I despised about the man and his wife, but tolerated nonetheless; their upsetting ability to calmly convince anyone of anything.
I sighed in quiet compliance. "Fine," I pushed off the wall and stood straight up before the shorter man. "But only because I want this discussion to be over," I insisted. The former scientist walked ahead of me, a smile evident from the rise in his cheeks. "And this isn't about her, either," I called out, walking to catch up, but not before shooting one last glance toward the door.
We walked in silence until we reached our destination, which was the kitchen, and took a seat at the table. There were already platters of food set out atop the table.
I could my eyebrow twitching in aggravation. He had set this up before he even saw me. I said nothing on the matter as I picked up a sandwich and began to eat, all the while keeping my focus on one particular room in the compound.
Dr Briefs ate a few pieces of fruit. He wiped his mouth with one of the white cloth napkins before speaking.
"So," he began again. "May I assume that the source of your worry is stemming from what you informed us of what you sensed in her, still. Would you mind elaborating on how that works again, exactly?"
I finished my sandwich before answering. "It's simply the process of sensing a life source. It's very similar to the way your heart monitors work; it can tell me how strong or how weak a source is. In this case Bulma's source was very weak, even weaker than usual, almost as if she weren't even alive."
The man leaned back in his seat at this. "I can see why you would be worried. That certainly calls for some concern,"
"I'm not concerned abou-" before I could get another opportunity to give an unconvincing lie, he was interrupted by the telephone in the kitchen.
"My apologies son, excuse me," the man got up to answer it. "Hello? Oh, hello, Van, how are you doing today?" he greeted. "No, I'm afraid Bulma will be taking a day to rest, so she won't be of any help," he explained. "That's sounds easy enough. Why don't I come by to lend you a helping and, also, see to it that Bulma doesn't fall behind on anything," he gave as a proffer. "Nonsense. This is nothing I can't handle. I'll see you soon. Alright, bye," he placed the device back on its base and came back to the table but did not sit. "I'm so sorry, my boy, but it seems that I will helping my niece today," he said, almost a bit too happily, going over to the door. "When she wakes up, tell Bulma that her mother and I are on top of things here for her," and he left without another word.
I sighed to myself. Accursed contraption, that telephone was.
The room was now encased in silence. I leaned back in an attempt to relax my nerves, but I closed my eyes and concentrated on my target at the same time. I nearly settled in my seat, that was until my eyes snapped open at what I was sensing, or rather not sensing from the room upstairs.
Bulma's life source had completely vanished. I got up and began making mu way back to the second level of the home. Before I got up the first step, a scream cut through the silence. I dashed up the rest of the way.
When I entered the room, the very first thing I saw was Bulma curled up on the floor, screaming as if she were being tortured.
"Bulma?" I rushed over to her.
If I knew what would come from me going in there I would have just remained outside.
Having at last picked myself up from the floor, I was currently en route to the 439 Mountain District.
Even after my little episode earlier, I was still intent on seeing Trunks, but I had been informed that Mom had taken him out for the day so as to give me some peace and quiet. So much for that. My mood was further sullied by this, but I decided to just get my day started regardless of how I was feeling.
I took a shower and got dressed in a simple pair of dark blue jeans and a navy green sweater with a pair of all black, high-top Nikes with the white symbol on the side. I didn't really feel up to wearing makeup or jewelry, so I went without accessories and settled on applying a small amount of eyeliner to disguise how I felt on the inside. The world didn't get to see me at my worst. Ever. I ate some the food that had been laid out on the kitchen table before I headed out the door.
A few days before all this happened, I had happily agreed to picking up Gohan and letting him spend the day with me in the city. In the time that had gone by since Goku passed, my relationship with Gohan had been a flourishing one. Having first learned of his existence four years after he was actually born, and him being abruptly kidnapped by his estranged uncle, and all the madness that followed, I hadn't really seen an appropriate moment to properly get to know him, and when Goku surprisingly named me as his sole Godparent during his recuperation after the fight with Vegeta, a feeling of responsibility overcame me.
Even though with Gohan being the only child amongst us made most of the veteran members of our motley crew feel some sort of sense of responsibility towards him, I felt especially inclined due to the role I could have potentially played in his life.
Back in the days before Trunks, the thought that I could become someone's parent before I even had my own was too depressing for words. I undoubtedly loved him, and I had the means to ensure his needs were met, but I just didn't think of myself as capable of nurturing him the way a good parent should. I was admittedly selfish and unapologetic about the fact, even after the birth of my child, and everyone around me knew this, so I could not understand why Goku would've choose me, of all people, to pick up where he and Chi Chi might've left off.
It wasn't until the night before the Cell Games took place that I finally got an answer to the four year old question.
Flying over the countryside of the East District on the eve of that faithful day, I felt the pull of nostalgia dragging my jet downward until I finally landed in an opening in the middle of the forest. Against my better judgment, I stepped out of the safety of my vehicle and into the unknown of the night. My legs carried me forward, through yards of trees and foliage, until I reached an opening where I knew a river ran through. I stepped forward, slowly, gazing upon the moon-glistened body of water. I removed my shoes and socks before I sat on the riverbank and sunk my feet into the gently moving stream.
I sat in tranquil silence, trying to get my mind off of what possibilities the next day might bring.
"It sure is peaceful out here tonight," a familiar voice interrupted.
Knowing myself I still jumped in surprise when I realized that the voice was right beside me. I whipped to the side and leaned away, only to find my oldest friend sitting calmly with me on the bank. "Goku, you idiot!" I punched him in the arm. "How many times do I have to tell you not to do that to me?" I scolded.
He faked being in pain, rubbing his arm. "I didn't mean to scare you," even in his Super Saiyan form, he still managed to look like a wounded child. "I just thought I'd come out and join you without disturbing you, that's all," he gingerly said.
I shook my head and just stared out at the water.
After a while, I turned to look at him and saw that he was also staring at the river. I stared at his glowing head of hair and his teal eyes. "Goku," he turned his head toward me. "Do you think that maybe you can give..." I gestured at his face. "...a rest for a little while?"
He gave a confused look. "Why?"
"It's kind of difficult to relax knowing that the person next to you could accidentally kill you if he sneezes," I said, calmly.
"You know I have to stay this way until the fight tomorrow,"
"I know that, but a few minutes of relaxation won't completely offset your training, will it?" I offered. When he appeared as though he would refuse once more I continued. "Just do this for me, please?"
He sighed in defeat. "Alright, I'll do it because you asked so nicely," he jokingly complied. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. When he exhaled, golden hair fell and became black, and when he opened his eyes, they were back to their inviting shade of black. He looked back to me. "Is this better?"
I smiled up at him. "Much," and went back to staring at the water. My smile slowly faded as my thoughts went back to what he just said. "Goku, why did you choose me?" I turned to him. "You know, to be Gohan's Godmother?"
He shrugged one shoulder. "Chi Chi and I both agreed on it being you,"
"I know that, but why was I picked?"
"Why wouldn't we have picked you?" he replied, incredulously.
"I don't know, maybe because Piccolo may have been more qualified for the position than I am," I cynically commented.
He gave me a sweet smile. "Bulma, do you remember around the time we first met? It was during our early days of searching for the Dragonballs, when it was only the two of us, that you and I got to know each other," he carried on, nostalgia twinkling in his eyes. "For the first time in my life, I got to see how someone else viewed life..."
"And saw how selfishly I lived my life," I interjected.
"Yeah, you had a lot of selfish tendencies, which was why you couldn't ride Nimbus, but I still saw how much you actually cared about the people around you," his face was kind and sincere as he spoke. "You may have been selfish, but when the time called for it, you always pulled through for us. Bulma, you are the most reliable person I know. There was no one else I could think of more qualified to ensure that Gohan gets everything he needs in life," a stern look graced his handsome features. "I know that the guys will help him grow stronger, physically, but I want to know that there is someone who is helping him grow up to be stronger, mentally. Make him into the man his mother always wanted him to be. That's you, Bulma,"
The feeling I had at that moment was indescribable. My chest was tight with emotions to the point of that my breath got a little hitched. I never thought, in all our years of knowing each other, that he actually regarded me in such a way, that he took notice of my mental strengths and sort of placed me above the others in terms of respect for my craft. It was an eye-opening moment indeed.
I turned away, trying to hide the way his words made me feel. "That was very sweet of you, Goku. Thank you for that," I said, attempting to myself together.
"No need to thank me. It's just the truth," he lightly moved his barefeet around in the cool water. "You really have been a driving force in my life, the reason I've gone as far as I have and done as much as I have, and I want the same thing for Gohan, with or without me being there to see it,"
The prospect in which he was implying brought my mind back to the looming threat that sat on the dawn of the coming day. "What do you think is gonna happen tomorrow?" I asked without looking at him, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Well, we're gonna all go out there and give it our all and hope for the best," he said, optimistically, staring up at the night sky.
"Aren't you scared at all? Cell is by far the toughest opponent you guys have ever faced. What if something goes wrong?"
"Nothing is going to go wrong,"
I turned to him. "But how do you know that it won't?" I further inquired, desperate for an answer. Truthfully, I hadn't been able to stop the alarming thoughts that haunted me during that period of time. I needed reassurance.
He simply shrugged his shoulder. "I just believe that things will turn out for the better. I feel it in my heart," he smiled at me.
I deflated with a sigh at his answer. "I seriously hate your buoyancy sometimes, you know that?" he gave a chuckle at my dry humor and I soon found that his laughter was infectious and joined him. I leaned onto him as I held my sides in uninhibited glee. A few minutes later, our chuckling was finished and I wiped away my happy tears. I took a moment to collect myself before I spoke. "Do you think that after tomorrow we'll still be able to do this?" I asked, suddenly.
He took a calming breath. "What do you mean? Do what?"
"This," I gestured between us. "Just being happy like this again," I sullenly said. "Trunks told me some things about the future that he came from, and he said that a lot of things have already happened differently to prevent it, but I can't help but think that all of our efforts have simply delayed the inevitable,"
"Bulma, look at me," he told me and I complied with little hesitation. He still wore a soft smile on his lips. "I promise you, no matter what the outcome may be tomorrow, that you will still be able to have more happy times to fill your life with for years to come. Trust me,"
I gave him a contented smile before resting my head on his shoulder. He draped an arm across my slender shoulders.
"I promise that you all will be happy," he muttered, almost to himself.
We sat in silence for the remainder of our time there.
His last words didn't mean much to me beyond what he said, in that particular instance. It wasn't until months after his death, once I returned to the spot, that I finally understood. Goku knew that if the situation became dire, he would be the one who made the sacrifice to save all the others. Yes, he chose his words wisely that night. He would ensure our happiness, with or without him being a part of it.
Ever since then, I felt compelled to build a relationship with Gohan, to get to know him beyond the battlefield, so that if the day ever came for me to take legal guardianship over him, he wouldn't just see me as a friend of his father's. I wanted him to know that I cared...without the situation calling for it. The same went for the newest member of the Son's family, Goten, who had become a very good friend of Trunks.
At last, my jet descended and landed in front of a lone house in the middle of the land. It was a cozy little home with a smoking chimney and a beautiful view of the surrounding area on its shoulders. It always looked like something out of a vacation you could only dream of.
Before I even had the chance to get out of her vehicle, my name was already being called. I looked over to see my, now teenaged, God son flying my way.
I climbed out of the jet and was instantly engulfed in a hug. I happily returned the embrace. "Hi Gohan, how you been?" I said as I playfully ruffled his shaggy hair. I noticed how tightly he was hugging me around the waist with his head on my shoulder. "Gohan, are you alright?"
He pulled away to look at me. We were nearly the same height around this time so I could clearly see his worried eyes. "Your mom called us this morning,"
I turned my head with a sigh. Of course she called them.
"She said that you were in an accident last night and not to expect you to show up today," he said, his deepening voice filled with concern. "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be at home resting right now?"
I gave him a forced smile. "Gohan," I placed my hands on his shoulders. "I assure you that I am fine. Last night was..." I paused. Scattered images flashed before my eyes, and yet again, left me with more questions than answers. "...nothing. Nothing at all," that's what I was trying to tell myself. Seeing as I couldn't seem to make a full picture out of her my memories, I could see no point in making a fuss over something that might have been nothing. "Come on, let's go inside so I can see your mom and brother before we go," I said, quickly changing the subject, ushering him into the house.
Upon entering the home, I instantly got the wind knocked out of me by something that just crashed into my stomach, sending me to the ground. I was not at all surprised when my attacker crawled up to my face and gave me a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Goten, I have missed you, too, but you have to stop doing that or I'm gonna need to have reconstructive surgery on my ribs, okay?"
He sat on my firm stomach and gave me an enthusiastic nod. "'Kay, Buma," the two-and-a-half year old said.
"I'm gonna go get mom, okay?" Gohan said as he excused himself.
"I'll be right here," I groaned as I carefully sat up and gave the boy sitting on top of me a proper hug. Unlike Gohan, I had been here for Goten since the day he was born, which had been only six months after Goku had passed. And while his older brother inherited a few of his mother's physical traits, Goten appeared as if Goku himself had created him without getting a single strand of DNA from Chi Chi. The resemblance was uncanny. I use to get nostalgic just by looking at the little clone of my best friend. It was never an unwelcome feeling, which was why I couldn't help but stare. When he got older he started hated when I did that.
The small child suddenly pointed at me. "Buma, eyes pretty,"
I smiled with teeth. "Thank you, Go Go,"
He leaned closer, curiosity dancing in his eyes. "How you do that?"
I stared at him in confusion. "Do what?"
"Pretty light!" he said, excitedly.
"Goten, what are you talking about?"
"Eyes!" he pointed at my face.
I gently picked him up and placed him on the floor. I got up and walked over to a mirror that was hanging in the hallway. My eyes widen with shock at what I saw.
The sclera of my eyes were pitch black and the irises were an ethereal blue-green color. I looked closer and could see small lines floating around in what use to be the white of my eyes.
"Holy shit!" I stumbled back, rubbing furiously at my eyes. I placed my hand on a radio on the table for support and opened my eyes to see if my efforts were fruitful. When I tried to look at the mirror again it was gone, as was little Goten and the cozy little home of my good friends.
With my arm now pulsating once again, I found that I was now in a dark room, completely barren of light. I whipped around in a full circle, but found nothing but darkness as far the eye could reach. "Hello!" I yelled out. "Can anybody hear me?" there was no response. I clutches a hand over my throbbing arm and just continued to look around. "Where am I?"